Never Say Never
by KaydenceRei
Summary: (Sequel to In Ruins) Four months after Bruce and Natasha's escape from captivity, Bruce has continued working tirelessly to figure out what was in the nanites injected into Natasha, but the truth was something none of the Avengers foresaw. Danger is lurking around the corner from new enemies and help comes from where they'd least expect it to. Final story.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome back to the final installment of my Bruce/Natasha trilogy. Wow, that's scary to say. Never thought I'd write a second story let alone a third. Big thanks to **NonaReed** and **Black Victor Cachat** for helping with all the ideas that made this story. Without Nona asking for it and giving the plot of what she wanted to happen and Black Victor Cachat helping me with an outline to make it all happen then In Ruins would have been the end. That being said, let's get on with the show, or rather, the story.

Welcome to **Never Say Never**.

 **Prologue** :

" _Never say never  
because limits, like fears,  
are often just an illusion."_

"Bruce?"

The muffled response made Natasha roll her eyes as Bruce ignored her saying his name. It had been four months since Sri Lanka but while Helen Cho did most of her work from Tony's new favorite lab for nanotechnology, Tony and Bruce tended to do most of their work in the tower. She had also been more than thrilled that the Avengers returned to their own facility upstate given that it meant Steve stopped hovering over her like the giant big brother she never wanted, and although she would never admit it aloud, she had started to miss them after a few weeks of them not bothering her.

She huffed out a sigh as she prodded Bruce in the temple with her index finger before she said his name again, "Bruce."

The scientist was snoring loudly, unfazed by her calling of his name, and Natasha couldn't quite resist the smile that grew despite the fact she had been awake for an hour already. She shifted her eyes to the side, glancing down at him with a soft expression as his ear rested just over her heart.

There was a short moment where her heart sped up. Where she realized that she had grown complacent over the last few months, content to simply be with Bruce. It only took a few seconds to relax again; just a few moments of seeing the worry lines missing from his face while he slept was enough to do the job as she ran her fingers through his unruly hair with the smallest of smiles.

"Why're you awake?" came his mumbled voice.

Natasha chuckled in an instant when he rolled onto his back and she eased herself onto her side before she trailed a finger in a figure eight across his bare chest. "Maybe because it's almost noon," she told him with amusement etched into her tone.

"Really?" came his question. She gave him a sideways little smile when he opened one eye and squinted at her.

"Really, really," she assured him, chuckling against his lips when he sluggishly leaned forward and kissed her. "You realize, don't you, that right now you and Tony have a more meaningful relationship with each other rather than with myself and Pepper?" she questioned.

Both his eyes opened now and he gave her a somewhat wide-eyed look. "You finally figured it out?" he questioned in an all too serious tone.

Natasha scoffed as she sat up. "Bruce, please. People write stories about your bromance on the internet. Science bros are all the rage. You and I? We're practically science fiction," she told him with a chuckle and she smirked when he kissed her shoulder.

"I don't know about that," he offered up, kissing her collarbone next. "Seems real," he mumbled against her skin, kissing her neck shortly after.

She laughed when the scruff of his beard tickled her throat. "Yes, yes, sure," she agreed, "but he's practically your work wife."

"My work wife?" Bruce questioned, snorting out a laugh against her neck.

"If you keep spending more time with him in that lab than you do with me, I'm going to start getting jealous," she told him, prodding him in the chest with her index finger.

Bruce's chest was heaving in silent laughter and his eyes were lit up with amusement before he made the comment, "Do you actually know how to be jealous?"

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him playfully, "I'm learning." She smiled when his nose brushed against her own as he hovered his lips over hers. "One day," she stated as she curled her hand around the back of his neck and dragged her knuckles slowly over his cheekbone, "just take one day out of the lab—and spend it with me."

He looked torn about it and she knew it was just because what he worked on in the lab was _for_ her. It bugged him that they hadn't figured out what was in the nanites yet, though Helen insisted she was close, that didn't mean that it made Bruce feel any better.

"Four months," she reminded him before she continued, "nothing is wrong with me. If there was then we would have noticed."

"Natasha—"

"One day," she stated again with more sternness in her voice, "otherwise Tony will be your only girlfriend."

Bruce gave her a contemplative look as he smirked at her, and it wasn't very often she saw Bruce actually smirk, then the words left his lips, "Well, juggling the two of you _has_ been getting difficult."

She rolled onto her back and covered her mouth as she snorted out a laugh.

"What do you want to do?" he finally asked.

It gave her some relief and she shifted her face back towards him. "Strangers on a Train is playing at the theater," she offered up.

He quirked an eyebrow up at her, "I remember the theater ending badly last time."

She chuckled a little before she inclined her head slightly. "It went a little sideways but if you think about it logically, that was sort of how we got our start," she reminded him.

"You're getting sentimental," Bruce warned her playfully.

It was true but Natasha huffed out a laugh anyways. "Only with you," she assured him.

"And Barton."

She snickered. "You've got your work wife, I've got mine," she answered before giving him a sideways smile when he laughed.

"Alright," he finally agreed, "but if I get shot this time too, I'll never leave the tower again."

"I suppose that's a fair deal," Natasha assured him with a chuckle, "we'll just have to avoid that part this time." She scrunched up her nose slightly as she narrowed her eyes at him. "But you need to shower before you go anywhere, even if it's just out of this room. You smell," she informed him as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Bruce finally sat up himself and did the same as she just had. "I don't—" and she watched as he leaned down towards his arm and sniffed, "okay...I do sort of smell."

"I'll go put tea on for you," Natasha offered up as she stretched and got to her feet.

"You might want to put pants on this time," Bruce suggested, "last time you went to the kitchen wearing nothing but underwear and one of my shirts I think you aged Steve ten years."

Natasha snorted but she opened one of the drawers and pulled out a pair of jeans regardless. "It certainly got him to go back upstate," she reminded Bruce as she pulled them on, "I consider that a mission accomplished."

She heard Bruce chuckle all the way to the bathroom as he called through the doorway to her, "I knew you did that on purpose."

"Eventually you're going to learn that everything I do, I do on purpose," Natasha reminded him as she stripped off his shirt and changed into one of her own.

"Oh, I'm aware," he assured her.

Natasha smirked as she headed out of their shared apartment in Stark tower and made her way to the kitchen.

The moment she stepped inside she heard the grumbling of Tony who was staring intently at someone on his tablet. She ignored him at first, settling over at the stove as she put Bruce's favored teapot on top of the burner.

More grumbling and muttering came from the kitchen table and she rolled her eyes before she turned, leaning against the counter beside the stove and folding her arms. "Alright, Tony," she stated before asking the question, "who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?"

"This guy," Tony told her.

She quirked an eyebrow up as he pulled up an actual screen across the kitchen table and pulled up the image of a man with graying hair, far too circular glasses perched on his nose, who was donning a lab coat. "Okay, I'll bite. Who is he?" she dared to ask.

"Ulrich Klein," he answered, "and he's about to piss in yours too."

Natasha sighed as she moved to the kitchen table and took a seat beside him before she kicked her feet up on the table. "I'm retired, nobody pisses in my Wheaties anymore," she told him.

The billionaire eyed her bare feet distastefully as he spoke, "You realize we eat on this table?"

"You never eat on this table," she reminded him with another roll of her eyes, "none of us have ever eaten on this table."

"But I might've," he muttered before he moved his tablet a half an inch away from her bare feet, "although now I certainly won't."

"So, what's this guy's deal?" she finally asked.

Tony looked reluctant but finally he answered her question after a few heavy moments of silence, "Cap was trying not to involve you."

A sinking feeling that she hadn't gotten in months settled into the pit of her stomach the moment those words left Tony's lips but she kept her face neutral as she watched him, "But he _is_ involving me?"

"Look, Red, you don't have to get involved—"

"Let me decide that," she cut him off as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Just tell me what's going on," she ordered him.

"Showing is easier," Tony finally agreed with a sigh, "and I'll skip to the important part because he rambles for a good twenty minutes beforehand."

Natasha turned her head towards the screen he motioned to and she watched the crappy homemade video going down a hallway. She wasn't at all interested and she almost stood up to get the teapot when the kettle whistled on the stove. She only paused when the camera stopped on metal bars, a dank and dark prison cell of some sort. Her feet removed themselves from the table of their own accord as she leaned forward, studying the dirty faces of children of varying ages as they turned to look at the camera.

" _The deal is really quite simple, Avengers._ "

There had to be at least a dozen kids inside the cell and it brought back a few not so treasured memories from Red Room, something she imagined was likely this man's goal when she heard his next comment.

" _Natasha Romanoff for the children_."

She scoffed in an instant as she shook her head. She had been right to be angry with herself earlier over allowing herself to grow complacent with Bruce. To think that she could actually get out of the fight without being dragged back in. She couldn't look at the grimy and disheveled appearances of the children for another second and she swiped Tony's screen away with her hand without waiting to hear what else the man had to say. "Let me guess," she murmured, "If I don't go there alone and unarmed then he'll kill those kids?"

Tony sighed, "That's about the size of it."

"Fantastic," Natasha heaved out with a deep breath. "So where am I going?" she dared to ask.

"Nowhere," Tony told her in an instant, "you're not walking in there alone. Rogers wouldn't send _anyone_ there alone and unarmed, even if it's a certain redhead whose more deadly with her legs than any weapon made by man."

She snorted at the semi-compliment he gave her. "But he would walk in there himself," she pointed out, "even if it was just one kid, Steve would go. My life isn't more important than the lives of those kids, Tony."

"I'm not saying it is," he told her, "I'm just saying that we need to meet with Rogers and come up with a plan."

" _I'll_ meet with him," Natasha told him. " _You're_ going to occupy Bruce," she ordered as she stood up.

Tony frowned in an instant, "Nat—"

"You can't tell him," she insisted, "he already has enough on his mind. If Bruce knows—"

"If Bruce knows what?"

Natasha turned and glanced at the scientist in the doorway, his hair still wet from the shower, and she watched him as he moved to the stove and turned the burner off.

"I heard this thing whistling all the way down the hall," Bruce informed them.

Tony was staring at the ceiling, his attempt to play clueless more than just a little obvious and Natasha smacked him in the shoulder for it. She knew the billionaire did it on purpose, that he meant to show his friend there _was_ something important that he wasn't being told. "Nice, Tony. Real nice," she grumbled out, "remind me not to entrust you with any secrets I might ever want hidden."

"Just tell him," Tony told her.

She might as well tell him the truth. Lying to him now felt a lot harder than it had felt moments ago in her head when she was planning to lie to him. She was beginning to grow a rather large con list to this 'love' thing as she took the tablet from Tony's grip and began pressing a few buttons.

"Hey, hey!" the billionaire swiped the tablet back, " _I'll_ play it for him, keep your ninja paws off it."

Natasha raised a single eyebrow up at him.

Tony cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I know that look. That's the 'never do that again' look. Consider the warning heeded."

Bruce looked minutely amused at the usual bantering between herself and Tony but that was wiped away the moment the video played.

It was silent save for the video for several minutes after it was over before Bruce finally spoke, "So you weren't going to tell me?" The fact that he seemed surprised by her plan to deceive him only made that feeling inside worse. "I thought we were past things like that," he bit out and she winced internally as he walked back out of the kitchen.

"Harder than it used to be, isn't it?" Tony questioned.

"Shut up and tell Rogers that we're coming," Natasha grumbled out as she stood up and followed Bruce.

"That's a yes," she heard him comment even though she was in the hall and she just shook her head in reaction to it.

She sighed for a moment before she spoke, "FRIDAY?"

"Doctor Banner is back in your room, Miss Romanoff."

"Thank you," Natasha offered up to the AI.

She made her way back to the room and pushed the door open. Bruce was nowhere to be seen which meant there was one of two places he could be. She wandered down the small hall and into the bedroom, then she watched as Bruce rummaged through the closet for something unknown.

She leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms as he continued without acknowledging her before she finally said his name, "Bruce?"

A moment later a remarkably beat up black duffelbag was thrown from the closet and landed near the bed causing her to arch both her eyebrows up in curiosity. Bruce finally moved back to the bed and he sat down on it looking more frustrated than she had seen him in months, though he had yet to say a single word to her.

"Was there a point to that?" she questioned, "it's not like I'm taking off because I want to, I'm going because it's the right thing to do."

Bruce let out a sad and exasperated little laugh before he answered, "I'm not mad because you want to go save a bunch of kids, Natasha. I'm mad because you thought lying to me would be better than telling me the truth." He rubbed at his face before he stood up and walked over to her, "I'm mad because we can't _ever_ seem to catch a break. And I'm mad because not only do you still have that bag, but it's _packed,_ why is it packed?" She opened her mouth to speak but he didn't give her the chance because he had an answer in his own mind, "In case you changed your mind about us? Or wanted an easy out?"

"Bruce, no," she told him, though he didn't seem to believe her as he walked past her and out of the bedroom. "Bruce!" she called after him, following behind him once again. He wasn't listening as he headed into the living room and she grasped his arm. She only let go when he turned around and instead of frustrated now he just looked _angry._ That gave her pause. Sure, he had been mad at her on a few occasions but not like this and she almost stepped back on instinct alone. He must have noticed because the anger seeped away and in place of it was fear of some sort. Then _he_ stepped back. "Bruce..." she tried once more as she reached out to him but he only stepped away again.

"Don't," he mumbled out. "I saw that..." he told her, "I saw it in your eyes. That was fear..."

Natasha frowned in an instant and moved forward again, placing her hands on either side of his face. "That wasn't fear of you," she assured him, "that was fear that I'm already messing up _everything_. Bruce, I could _never_ be afraid of you. You're not a threat to me." She released the adoring hold she had on his face and took a step back herself now before she moved to sit on the couch. "It's inevitable that I'd mess this up eventually, hence the bag, but I made the rather bold assumption that if Tony could hold a relationship together then I could too, at least for a while," she explained with a sigh, "but while I've pissed you off in the past, you've never looked _that_ angry before."

"Of course I haven't," Bruce told her as he sat down beside her, "and you make it ridiculously hard to stay mad for more then five minutes when you seem to think that one argument is going to be the end of our relationship..." She glanced over at him and he seemed to be telling the truth. He didn't look angry anymore, instead he looked more understanding. "Natasha, I never looked that angry before because all the times we fought before...it was before _this,_ " he explained, "it was before I— _before_ I was in love with you. Now when you do something that makes me mad, it _really_ makes me mad."

"So, like how I've felt the last four months. Aside from the few days we spent at Clint's, I've only seen you during the hours of 4am to 10am because you spend the rest of the time in the lab," the comparison she gave him came out more harshly than she meant it to. He opened his mouth to give his usual reasoning, that it was for her, when he seemed to recognize the truth of her words. He snapped his mouth closed again in an instant and she wondered if he even realized before now how little time they actually spent together.

He rubbed at his eyes for the second time, his usual show up frustration, before he replied, "That's why you wanted to go to the movie..." She watched as he met her eyes once more and this time all the anger was gone and now he looked a little ashamed as he spoke, "It hasn't been much of a relationship...has it?"

Natasha gave him the smallest of smiles, "I guess we just aren't in the more...conventional of relationships. Look, as loathed as I am to admit this, and I'm going to wish I could take this back after I say it, Tony said something to me in the kitchen and he was right." She scrunched up her nose distastefully. "Yeah, I definitely regret that already," she tacked on and Bruce smiled in an instant. "Anyways, after you walked out he made a comment about how lying to you was harder than it used to be," she explained, "and truth is, the idea of it was easier before you were standing in the same room."

"Alright so...we both have a few things to work on in this department," Bruce admitted with a chuckle. His smile was more halfhearted with his next comment though, "And I suppose we're doing a raincheck on the movie..."

She gave the smallest nod, "Guess so. I need to go meet up with Rogers about this Ulrich Klein."

"We."

Natasha tilted her head to the side slightly before she gave him a smile, "We."

* * *

 **Admittedly I allowed myself to get super distracted playing the Marvel Heroes Omega game that just released on the PS4. Running around as Scarlet Witch and throwing chaos energy at Frost Giants? Totally epic. ;.**

 **Anyways, this is sort of a prologue? It's longer than I intended a prologue to be but shorted than I intend for a chapter to be so... Chaplogue? Propter? Haha. Whatever. So begins the ride!**


	2. Chapter 2

And here we are for the first official-dicial chapter of **Never Say Never**. I have to admit, you guys shocked me. 7 reviews within the first hour of posting had me all happy and smiling. So glad you've all decided to stick with me for the third story.

 **Chapter 1** :

 _"And, after all, what is a lie?  
Tis' but the truth in masquerade."  
_

Bruce knew for a fact that given the unbearable silence during the flight over to the Avengers' facility upstate and despite the fact that he and Natasha had resolved the fight before it really started, it _was_ still weighing heavily in the air between them. Tony seemed to have noticed it, though the billionaire was doing a stellar job of not saying a word about the situation, likely afraid that Natasha might maim him if he made one wrong comment. Bruce didn't doubt that she would either.

Still, it was hard to be mad her and _stay_ mad at her, especially when he realized that she had stoically not said a word for the last few months until today about how little they actually saw of each other. Not that it made that small factor that she had wanted to hide this from him any better. As much as he appreciated the major change she had made by _not_ hiding her feelings from him in the heat of the moment, the stiffness that had taken over her body when he had gotten angry earlier was still weighing on him. Though he didn't doubt her sincerity about her reaction not being to him for a single moment, it didn't help that for a brief moment he thought she had been afraid of him, that she might actually believe he could hurt her.

It wasn't a feeling he ever wanted to have again.

Bruce shifted his eyes over to where she was sitting but her gaze had been glued to that tablet of Tony's since they left the tower. He knew what she was doing. She was watching that video over and over again. She was staring at the faces of the children whose lives suddenly depended on a woman they didn't know and he wondered if those children knew just how lucky they were.

He knew he was lucky to have her in his life. Admittedly, not many women would have stayed silent as long as she had about their lack of activities together, though he supposed Natasha was never like most other women, something he'd taken for granted since they were rescued from Sri Lanka.

They were almost to the Avenger's facility and Bruce felt his brow wrinkle before he stood up and moved to the seat directly beside the redhead. She didn't acknowledge him and when he looked at the tablet he found that he was correct in his original assumption. Natasha was staring at the children who seemed to have no light in their eyes, no hope. He placed his hand on top of the tablet and slowly lowered it from her vision, watching as she shifted her gaze over to him instead.

"Natasha..." he murmured out.

She was quiet still but she heeded his silent request, turning the tablet off and setting it aside. Was he still mad over her attempt to lie to him? Absolutely. He simply knew that just as she had accepted that he spent most of his day in the lab, he needed to accept the fact that lying, even to him, was one of her most basic of instincts. She was denying her very nature each night they laid down together, denying her prior belief that love was for children; That it was a temporary firing of synapses in the brain and an overflow of endorphins leading to an 'illogical' display of feelings for another person.

"This is about Red Room, isn't it?" he asked her, "that's what these kids are reminding you of?"

"Yes."

Bruce sighed as he reached his hand up and tucked a stray strand of red hair back behind her ear. Her answer was simple and immediate. It was the truth. "It's not the same thing, not even a little," he assured her. He gave her the smallest of smiles as she looked at him with a hollow expression, yet he could see the pain of the past residing behind her mask nonetheless and he told her the one thing he could think that might help. He told her the truth, "They have something that you never had."

Natasha tilted her head to the side slightly, the emptiness of her expression instead giving way to the confusion she felt at his statement. "And what's what?" she dared to ask.

"You," Bruce assured her, "they have you."

The smile she gave him was almost microscopic but it was genuine and he relished the moment when she leaned her head down to rest on top of his shoulder. They didn't get too many moments like this, moments that were small and seemed insignificant and yet to him they seemed like the most important ones of all. "And I have you," she stated after a few seconds of silence.

It left a fluttery little feeling in his stomach, something of which he'd come to remember since starting his relationship with Natasha, was equated with happiness. With love. "Always," he promised her, "even when you piss me off."

The smallest of chuckles came from her lips.

"You two are nauseatingly cute."

"Shut up, Tony," and the words came from both his lips and Natasha's at the exact same time.

"That's so _adorkable_. You two should do that more often," the billionaire replied.

Despite the fact that he knew Natasha was rolling her eyes, he could also feel her smiling against his shoulder due to the antics of his best friend. She would never admit it aloud, certainly not to Tony and not yet to Bruce either, but he knew somewhere inside she actually enjoyed Tony's atypical humor. It may have been unusual, inappropriate and ill-timed on most occasions, but just like Bruce himself, Natasha appeared to find it amusing on some level.

"I am sorry," she finally offered up.

Bruce furrowed his brow slightly as he shifted his eyes down to her head laying on his shoulder before he realized it was an apology for her earlier attempts at lying. He gave a tiny huff of a breath filled with the slightest amusement before he smiled at her, "I know."

"FRIDAY?" Natasha called out.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?"

"Operation Stark-Out."

"Acknowledged."

Tony's voice was immediately calling out, "What the hell is Operation Stark-Out?"

Bruce quirked an eyebrow up as a door closed between where they sat in the back of the jet and where Tony was seated in the cockpit.

"Real professional, Red, ha-ha," he heard Tony yelling through the door. "You two had better not play hide the zucchini back there! That would be highly inappropriate with me up—" his voice faded out until it was gone completely.

"Stark-Out complete," FRIDAY announced.

Bruce snorted out a laugh. "Impressive," he offered up the compliment with a little whistle of appreciation.

"Well, the zucchini thing was an interesting thought, crudely worded as it was" Natasha replied slyly.

He felt his face heat up in an instant when Natasha shifted so that she was sitting on his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs. She pushed her body closer to his, her nose was a mere fraction of an inch away from his nose, and he could feel her breath warm and steady on his lips. He didn't bother to wait for her to finish what she started and instead he finished the movement, his lips moving against her rather pliant ones, and while one hand was settled on the dip in her waist, his other hand was lost in a sea of red hair.

It was absolutely amazing how quickly and easily she could make every single thought in his brain turn to mush. He spent most of his life trying to find the on and off switch to his thoughts and then Natasha came along and made it seem so easy. Somehow all she had to do was plant one long and sensual kiss on him and everything crumbled to pieces and got muddled in his mind. When she finally pulled away for a moment she was looking at him with a look of utter adoration, a look he still hadn't quite gotten used to seeing.

"You do remember that we can't _actually_ hide the zucchini?" he reminded her with a chuckle.

"Of course," Natasha answered with a shrug of indifference.

At least he was glad to know that concept hadn't changed between them. He couldn't and she still had no interest in sex, something that was an absolute relief to him. And although they certainly pushed each others' boundaries on occasion, he was also glad that he hadn't pushed it far enough like he had once before, where something in Natasha's mind, in her programming, had forced her to detest intimacy to the point where she wanted to kill. It wasn't to say that it couldn't happen again but he hoped that with the removal of her programming that maybe that part of her was gone as well, albeit he wondered if her interest in him would fade if the one thing holding her back was truly gone.

"I know that and you know that," Natasha stated as she gripped the lapels of his shirt and pulled his face closer to her own again before her voice came out a little throaty, "but Tony doesn't need to know that." His laugh was swallowed by her kiss and once again his mind turned into nothing but a puddle of mush and unfinished thoughts.

Only a minute went by before he felt the smallest rumble from her stomach and he snorted out a laugh against her lips as he pulled away from the kiss. "Did your stomach just growl?" he questioned.

It was the first time he had seen a look of slight embarrassment cross her expression and her face had the slightest tint of red to it. "Well," she murmured, "that ruins the mood, doesn't it?"

Bruce leaned his head back against the wall of the jet as he let out another laugh. "I think I have a granola bar in my bag," he offered up with a smirk.

"That's hilarious but I'm not actually even hungry," Natasha grumbled out as she shifted her body off of his lithe like a cat. He thought that was the end of not just her momentary bout of affection but also their conversation when she glanced over at him and asked the unexpected question, "What kind of granola bar?"

Bruce blinked several times but he shrugged as he stood up and walked over to his bag and dug through it. Finally he found it and pulled it out, glancing it over before he turned back to her, "Uh, Strawberry." The redhead shrugged before she held her hand out and he tossed it over to her. "You don't like granola bars," he felt the need to point out as he moved back to the seat beside her.

Natasha chuckled slightly in response, "Not that I'm not impressed you know that but not liking something doesn't mean I won't eat it." She gave another small shrug after before she gave a comment that was less than savory, "I learned young to eat what was given to me whether I like it or not."

"That's not exactly comforting," he informed her with a sigh.

There was a slight crunch from her biting into the granola bar and it was silent sans her chewing before she swallowed and responded, "Well, I do like strawberry at least."

He smiled just a little and shook his head as she took another bite. "I suppose that was a little more comforting," he told her with a chuckle.

She smirked, those green eyes flickering over to him as she held it out a small length away from his lips. "Want a bite?" she questioned.

Bruce inclined his head slightly but he couldn't exactly deny that he _did_ love granola bars. He took the bite offered and then leaned back as Natasha took another bite herself. Once he finished chewing he couldn't quite resist the joke, "Hey, it's our first dinner date."

She choked on the bite she had just swallowed and Bruce snickered when she finally cleared her throat and grinned at him. "Maybe we should have requested an in flight movie," she tacked on before biting the granola bar again and offering it back to him.

"We'll have to make a note of that for next time," Bruce told her before he took a small bite out of the granola bar again.

"Maybe we can request better food too."

Bruce chuckled in an instant. "You are the strangest woman I've ever met," he told her after a few seconds while she polished off the granola bar.

"I've always strived to be the most unique," Natasha told him with a smirk once she was done eating.

He shook his head at her comment but he smiled nonetheless. "How long are you going to keep that Stark-Out going?" he dared to ask.

"How much longer until we get to the facility?" she deadpanned.

He let out another laugh. "We were about ten minutes from landing when I came back here," he informed her.

"Huh, well..." she shrugged and right on schedule the jet started to descend, "Tony is going to think you're the fastest hider of zucchinis in history then."

"Plural? Exactly how many do you think I have?" he quipped.

Her laugh was both immediate _and_ genuine.

* * *

Natasha sat silently with Tony, Bruce and the Avengers. She was seated between the two geniuses, listening to them prattle on about Steve's current plan. It seemed to involve two parts. One part being that _someone_ needed to call this Klein character and keep him distracted while the others broke into the facility and attempted to retrieve the kids.

"It's a terrible plan," Natasha stated as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Oh sure, sure, knock the plan but don't give one of your own," came the retort of a man she _didn't_ recognize that was sitting with the Avengers. He was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and while she had noticed his presence when they first came in, she hadn't bothered to question who he was, or rather she hadn't particularly cared.

She didn't have to say a word though because Tony did it for her, "She's not wrong. That plan sucks. And who the hell are you?"

The man blinked several times as though it should have been obvious before he grinned, stretched out a hand to the billionaire across the table and answered, "Hi, I'm Scott."

Natasha had to work to hide the smile from her face when Tony looked at the hand as though it were tainted. Needless to say, Tony didn't take the offered appendage, "I don't think so. I have no idea where that's been."

Scott shrugged, the smile not leaving his face before he shifted the hand towards her instead. "I'm a huge fan of the way you use your thighs in the heat of the moment," he stated.

She merely quirked an eyebrow up but kept her arms folded across her chest even as Sam snorted, Wanda choked on a laugh, all the while Steve, Rhodey and Vision merely shook their heads in disbelief.

"Uh...that didn't quite come out right," Scott assured them all before he looked to Bruce. The new guy cleared his throat a little nervously, "I wasn't hitting on her or anything, I swear."

She saw Bruce raise both eyebrows up before he responded to that, "You're not really about to try to shake my hand after complimenting Natasha's legs, are you?"

It was effective because Scott looked nervous.

Bruce snickered before he held a hand out, "I'm kidding. Nice to meet you, Scott."

The relief on the newest member of the Avengers' face was immediate as he and Bruce shook hands and Natasha barely contained her smile. Bruce certainly loved awkward first impressions. She was briefly reminded of her own first official meeting with him in India when he had slammed his hands down on the small beat up table and yelled at her to stop lying to him. Admittedly, while he had certainly frayed her nerves and put her on the defensive in that moment, later she actually found his ability to manipulate her into the truth rather impressive. Not a lot of people had the ability to catch her off guard the way that he had that day.

While Tony and Steve looked amused by the result, having known Bruce the longest, the rest of the Avengers simply looked relieved.

"Regardless, it's the best plan we've got without leaving those kids there any longer. I'm not willing to take the chance that he decides we aren't going to do anything at all and kills them," Steve finally told her, reeling the conversation back in to the matter at hand.

"Or I could go in just like he wanted," Natasha offered up regardless of the fact she knew it would be shot down by each and every single member.

" _No_."

It was practically sung out in a chorus from every voice and she rolled her eyes. "Why am I even here if I'm not involved in this plan of yours?" she questioned.

"Because you insisted on it," Tony reminded her.

She shrugged, "Well I'll just be there so that when that craptastic plan fails, I can go in as Plan B."

"That would be a last resort, Nat," Steve assured her, "and it's not going to come to that. You're not going in there alone."

Natasha inclined her head to the side slightly to show she would go along with the plan before she stood up. "I'll go get my things then. I'm assuming they're still in my old room?" she questioned.

"Of course," Vision replied, "while it would be much more efficient to have converted your former room for someone else to stay in, sentimentality of the group has kept it from being touched."

Natasha snickered before giving him a joking reply, "I've missed your autonomous responses, Vision."

"Just as I've missed your witty replies," Vision replied good-naturedly.

She stepped out of the room and made her way through the halls before coming to her previous abode inside the facility. She hadn't stepped foot in it for nearly four and a half months but it was as spartan as she had left it. It wasn't important and she ignored what Vision called 'sentimentality' as she pulled one of her former black uniforms out of the closet and changed into it.

Whether the others wanted her to or not, she was going to find a way into that base because whether Steve wanted to admit it or not, the only thing that would be able to distract that man long enough for them to sneak the kids out was going to be her own presence. She was also aware that her Plan B was going to need a Plan B of it's own. Bruce would be pissed if she lied to him again but he might be less so if she at least had a decent plan behind it.

She also knew none of them were going to _help_ her do this, although from what she read from the new guy, Scott, she had a feeling she could manipulate him. There was the small matter though that she had no idea what he specialized in, Sam had been rather tight-lipped about the situation back when it occurred.

Fortunately it didn't take long to find him. Approaching him also came with the added benefit that he was alone in the recreational room and she leaned against the frame of the doorway to the room. "Scott?" she questioned.

The man practically fell off the couch in surprise before he stumbled to his feet, "Hi, yes, yeah. Hi."

Natasha quirked an eyebrow up at him again, barely containing her amusement. It was a little like seeing a slightly younger, slightly more 'exuberant' and equally as clumsy Bruce Banner. "Hi," she offered up the greeting in return. "Question," she stated casually as she entered the room, moving to lean against the bar counter instead. He followed her just as she figured he would. "What exactly is your thing?" she asked him, "Steve's a supersoldier, Vision's an android, Rhodey's got a suit of armor, Sam has a flying suit, Wanda's enhanced. So what do you do?"

"Oh, I shrink," he informed her nonchalantly. He was terrible with his words and Natasha stared at him momentarily before he caught on to how that sounded. "Crap, not what I meant. I have a suit, and you know, it shrinks me down," he explained.

That was actually intriguing. "How small?" she dared to ask.

"Um, pretty small," he answered, "ant-sized to be exact."

 _That_ was useful. She eased herself up so that she was sitting on the bar counter before she asked her next question, "Been on any missions yet?"

"Yes, well, not _with_ the team. Cap says I still got a lot to learn before I go official but I've got experience," he told her, "you're sort of a hard member of the team to live up to, ya' know that?"

Natasha chuckled. "What if I told you that you could prove yourself?" she asked him.

He looked skeptical. "And how would I do that?" he asked in return.

"Like I said, their plan sucks," she reminded him, "this guy wants me to show up unarmed, I'm sure you got that memo?"

"Yeah, I also know nobody's letting you do that," Scott pointed out.

She snickered before she replied to that, "Nobody tells me what I can or can't do, and besides, they simply said I couldn't go in alone."

"But—" he paused before his eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle. She had most certainly read him right. "Ohh, I see what you did there," he commented with amusement in his voice, "sneaky."

"You in?" she questioned.

He looked thoughtful as he folded his arms before he studied her, "This is probably going to get me kicked off the team, isn't it?"

Natasha gave the smallest shake of her head. "Doubtful, I'm a master manipulator. You can just blame it on that, though I'm sure that'll be their first thought anyways," she offered up.

He looked like he believed that. "Well, I've done worse things for worse reasons," he admitted, "suppose helping you do this to save a bunch of kids would actually be one of my higher points."

"Well there you go," she stated with a chuckle.

"I've got a daughter," he tacked on, "sort of makes me a sucker for kids."

Natasha inclined her head to the side slightly, not entirely sure what to say in response to that. Finally she said the only thing she could think of, "I'm sure she's a great kid."

"Oh she is," Scott assured her. She watched as he yanked his wallet from his pocket, pulled out a picture and then held it out to her. "Cassie. She's a huge fan of yours."

"Of me or my legs?" Natasha quipped as she took the picture and looked at the little girl. Fortunately Scott laughed at the joke. The little girl in the picture reminded her a lot of Lila, at least in appearance, she couldn't attest to personality. Finally she handed it back to him, "You'll have to introduce me sometime."

"Really?" he questioned. He seemed to find it necessary not to question a good thing though and quickly corrected himself, "I mean yeah, sure. She'd love that."

Natasha chuckled as she hopped down from the counter of the bar and headed back towards the door. "Better suit up then," she informed him. She paused in the doorway before she turned to look back at the man. "And Scott?" when he looked over at her she continued, "thank you."

"Don't mention it," Scott assured her. "Seriously, don't mention it. I wanna keep my job."

Natasha snorted as she made to leave again before his earlier comment hit her. She looked back at him again and narrowed her eyes before she questioned, "Ant-sized?"

"Yep."

"You're the guy who broke in, kicked Sam's ass," she stated before she pointedly finished her statement, "stole from us."

He tapped his hands on his legs before he decided to dignify that with a response, "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Okay, yeah it was totally me," Scott admitted with a chuckle, "but I had a _very_ good reason. Plus I sort of thought it was just an old warehouse before I _actually_ got here and realized I was _badly_ misinformed."

Natasha quirked an eyebrow up at his answer. "And you didn't think that maybe you should turn around and leave? What if the entire team had been here?" she questioned.

Scott looked contemplative but he shrugged nonetheless before he answered, "Wouldn't have changed the fact that it was necessary. I went in knowing there was a damned good chance of that."

He certainly had a set of brass ones on him and so she merely inclined her head to the side slightly in understanding. In truth, she was glad he said that and she responded in truth, "I was hoping that was your answer."

"You were? You're not going to say it was stupid?"

"Oh it was stupid," she assured him, "but you're also exactly the kind of person I need for this."

Scott looked a little offended, "An idiot?"

Natasha chuckled, "No. Someone willing to fight even when the odds are stacked against them just because it's necessary."

"Oh, well I've got plenty of that in me, nothing to worry about then," Scott assured her with a smirk and a wave of his hand.

She shook her head in amusement before she headed down the hall. Plan or not, alone or not, Bruce was going to be more than a little angry with her over this. She almost wanted to avoid him just so that he wouldn't be able to see her deceit before it ever happened. Loathed as she was to admit it, because of the fact that Bruce loved her as much as he did he had become remarkably good at reading her.

Of course avoiding him also meant that he would know something was up though and she sighed before she went and found him. It was equally as simple as finding Scott had been. Somebody clearly gave him directions to her old room because she found him sitting on the bed inside it and she quirked an eyebrow up playfully as she entered as well. "I might have liked this place a lot more if I'd come back to you in my bed more often," she offered up to him.

It was effective as always with Bruce because he turned a little red in the face. "Where'd you go?" he questioned.

Partial truth seemed to be her best option so it was what she went with in her answer, "I was talking to Scott."

"Really?" Bruce questioned in curiosity. "I figured he ruined any hope at gaining your respect when the first thing he did was compliment the use of your legs," he tacked on in amusement.

Natasha chuckled before she gave his chest a shove until he was flat on his back on the bed. She climbed over top of him, her legs on either side of his waist, and he looked both nervous and happy. "A girl tends to enjoy the occasional compliment," she informed him playfully.

He looked willing to play along. "Really?" he questioned, "is that where I've been going wrong?"

"You could make up for it," she assured him, trailing her fingertips down his chest, "I'm all ears."

He seemed like he was about to roll with it before a sudden realization seemed to hit him square in the face, then he looked thoroughly embarrassed. "Did you close the door?" he questioned.

"No," she answered. She snickered before she leaned forward and folded her arms across his chest, resting her chin on her arms and looking at him in amusement. "Why?" she asked him next, "are you afraid that someone will find out we're together?"

To her relief Bruce laughed and she gave his lips a quick peck with her own. He looked carefree for this small moment, something of which she wished that both of them knew how to do more frequently, though she supposed if they did then they would be entirely different people.

"What?" Bruce questioned, seemingly amused by her sudden study of him.

The truth was that regardless of how little they really did together, in these small moments together he could make her ridiculously happy, something she had never entirely imagined she could be. She wondered if she had ever actually told him that before.

Hell, she almost told him now but he distracted her from the thought with a single word, "Breathtaking."

Natasha blinked several times as she stared down at him. "What?" she mimicked his earlier response, tilting her head to the side slightly.

Bruce just smiled innocently at her when he gave his explanation, "My preferred compliment for you." It took a second before that one word's meaning took hold in her mind. It was what he had said to her back when their relationship, when they could only refer to what was going on between them as ' _this_ ', had first started between them. He had told her she was breathtaking, and while men had called her beautiful or any other number of words, none had ever worded it in the way that Bruce chose to that day—a way that still sent a little flutter through her.

"I remember," she assured him softly, leaning forward and capturing his lips with her own once more. She could feel the slightly rapid _thump thump thump_ from his chest and she smiled as she pulled away before she made the comment, "I see I still have that effect on you—making your heart beat faster."

Bruce looked amused to go along with that look of adoration in his eyes. "I'm fairly certain you'll always have that effect on me," came his immediate response and she chuckled.

She heard Tony's footsteps before he ever spoke or made a noise but even so the billionaire felt the need to clear his throat and interrupt their moment. "Ahem," he called out from the doorway, "if you two lovebirds are done accosting each other, everyone else is ready to go."

Natasha snickered. "Well for the record I wasn't done yet, but I suppose it'll have to wait until later," she stated before she rolled off Bruce and allowed the scientist to get up.

"That's why doors should be closed," Tony informed her with a chuckle.

She could see the redness creeping throughout Bruce's face and she couldn't help the smile, especially not when he finally spoke again, "I _told_ you."

Her smirk was almost immediate given his comment. "Actually, you didn't," she stated with a carefree semblance of a shrug, "you just asked if I closed it—you never _told_ me I should close it." He face-palmed in an instant and she chuckled before pressing her lips to his cheek. "Let's go then," she told him.

Bruce stood up first and she took his offered hand when he held it out to her, allowing him to pull her off the bed and onto her feet.

Natasha followed both of them and joined the Avengers waiting at the jet. While the rest of the team was suited up and ready to go, she could see Steve chatting with Scott Lang off to the side, the latter of which was still dressed in civilian clothing. She wasn't sure that boded well for her plan but Scott seemed carefree in the matter even when he met her gaze for a moment.

"Think you can manage to hold down the fort, Lang?" she heard Steve question as they got closer.

"Oh I think I can manage," Scott assured the Captain, "after all, thus far I'm the only one who's been good enough to break in." Natasha quirked an eyebrow up but Steve must have pulled a face as well because Scott corrected himself, "okay—not the only one to break in but the only one to get out unscathed!"

She snickered.

"Hey now," Sam grumbled out, looking over at his words, "I recall whooping your miniature ass."

"And then I broke your suit, took the goods and ran," Scott reminded him. Sam must have given him a death glare. "What?" he questioned, "I apologized..."

Steve was rolling his eyes and Natasha chuckled. The fighting children were all his problem now. They definitely weren't her problem anymore.

"Actually I was thinking about your plan," Scott told Steve just as the Captain was about to walk away. "I mean Romanoff is totally right, it's a pretty sucky plan—but I think I can make it better."

"How?" Steve questioned.

Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly but Scott was making up his own play now and she wasn't entirely thrilled with it.

"Actually that's the thing, I'm gonna need Romanoff here at base," Scott told him, "this guy wants her to come alone, he's not going to listen to any of you if you call and try to chat, right? So we let him talk to _her_."

Apparently she wasn't getting a chance to speak here because Steve asked the question, "Why would it matter if she was here or with us?"

"Well he might notice she's on a jet—with _other_ people?" Scott offered up. "Be more believable if she's actually alone and talking to him, he'd suspect a lot less," he explained, "plus she's crafty—then you don't have to worry about her sneaking off on her own."

Natasha could have strangled that fool if the others weren't around. Not only was he single-handedly ruining her plan but he was also alluding them to the fact she _did_ have that plan.

And then he straight up gave it away, "Which she was planning to do."

She scowled at him now.

"Seriously?" Bruce questioned her.

Natasha could have sensed the disappointment from a mile away, from right beside him it was practically like having it dropped on her like an anchor.

Steve was doing much the same, shaking his head slightly. "Do it," he told the newest Avenger with a sigh as he headed for the quinjet. "And Scott?" he called back, "thanks for the heads up. We'll call you when we're set up and then Natasha can make the call."

Scott waved him off as though it were nothing, "Sure thing, bossman."

The rest of the Avengers were boarding the quinjet with Steve, save for Tony and Bruce. Tony was giving her one of those 'you're in trouble looks' before he followed suite with the rest of the team, leaving her with nothing but Bruce and his disappointment. When she finally met his eyes, that was worse.

"Bruce..." she murmured out, reaching for his hand.

But Bruce pulled his hand away from hers before she even got to grasp his fingertips. "I should still go with them—in case they need me," he mumbled, "but mostly because I just can't do this—not again, not already."

"Bruce, wait—" and she knew they were right back to where they had been in their room at Tony's tower earlier because he just looked at her and shook his head.

"I believed you earlier when you said that lying to me wasn't simple anymore," Bruce told her with a frown, "and a couple hours later we're right back where we started all over again except this time? This time you didn't even bat an eye."

He had no idea just how wrong he was.

"I'm not upset that you lied to me, Natasha...I'm upset because I don't know how I'm supposed to keep believing you anymore," he told her with a shake of his head.

She stayed quiet as he got on the quinjet with the others. For one thing, she certainly didn't feel like having this fight with _every_ set of eyes on them and for another thing, she most definitely wasn't going to force those kids to wait any longer on a rescue just because she was messing up her romantic relationship with Bruce—not to mention she had the feeling he needed the space now anyways. It was the only reason she didn't argue the point that she _should_ still go.

None of them were going to trust her to not go off on her own now.

It wasn't until the quinjet was gone and out of sight that she turned on Scott, the urge to kill him at the forefront of her brain, and he must have seen it.

"Whoa, whoa," he stated quickly, putting his hands up defensively in surrender, "they would have figured it out without me telling them when all the sudden they couldn't find you—and this makes your plan easier."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him before she folded her arms across her chest, "This better be good, Lang, otherwise I really will kill you."

"It's a good plan," Scott insisted, "no need for murder or bodily harm...or at least not _my_ murder or bodily harm. They took the quinjet but Stark's jet is still here—"

She quirked an eyebrow up. "You want to steal his jet?" she questioned.

Scott shrugged, "From what I hear it wouldn't be your first time." He smirked, "Besides I've always sort of had this little niggling voice in the back of my head telling me that I should try to steal from him—I mean...back when that was my thing—cause it's totally not anymore."

Natasha couldn't resist the small smile, not that she didn't still want to ring his neck, but he was helping her just like she had asked him to do earlier. "I can see that," she mumbled with a roll of her eyes, following him towards Tony's jet. She stepped up to it first, calling down the stairwell ramp and making her way into the cockpit.

She flicked on all the controls to fire up the jet and arched her eyebrows up when FRIDAY's voice rang out, "My apologies, Miss Romanoff, but the boss has locked you out from accessing the controls."

"And I'm guessing you just told him that I tried to do it?" she asked.

"Yes."

Scott looked a little nervous when she shot him a death glare, "Plan B?"

" _My_ plan _was_ Plan B," she told him in annoyance, following him off the jet, "Plan B was to be in the damned quinjet, remember? _This_ was Plan C."

He frowned, "Can't you just override the system, take it anyways?"

Loathed as she was to admit it, she did anyways, "He's gotten pretty good at keeping me out of things—which is mostly my fault for helping him with security protocols." She glanced back up at the jet before she explained, "I could still do it but it would take a few hours and by then it wouldn't even matter."

Scott sighed before he spoke again, "Plan D?"

"We don't have a Plan D," she reminded him with a roll of her eyes.

He shrugged, "Then we do this the thief's way."

Natasha narrowed her eyes, "And what way is that?"

"Well when the plans stop working, just toss the plans," Scott told her, "they're more like guidelines anyways I figure."

Now he reminded her of Clint. That man could _never_ follow a plan.

"Stark has this new little mini-quinjet he made us. Way faster, _much_ cooler," Scott told her, "but there's just one teeny tiny problem."

"Obviously, otherwise I'm sure they'd have taken it," Natasha told him with a shake of her head.

It was Scott's turn to roll his eyes, "Well that reasoning was because it only sits about three or four people tops. It's a slimmer model for more...covert missions?"

Now he had her attention, "So what's the problem?"

"Well—it hasn't been tested yet," he answered.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow up and smiled, "Well then you better get your big boy pants on, Lang. We're about to test it."

He grinned, "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

 **Yep. Leave it to Ant-Man to go getting himself involved in Natasha's plan, or rather, leading Natasha's plan at the end there. Get ready for some action in the next chapter. You know what they say, (or at least what they say when I'm involved in writing things.) When it rains, it pours.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Big thank you to **tabbyuknowit** who read the entirety of the trilogy in five days. That's an attention span that I truly wish I had.

 **Chapter 2** :

"Falling in love is like giving someone  
a loaded gun pointed at your heart  
and trusting them not to pull the trigger."

Natasha had to admit, Scott hadn't been wrong about Tony's newer, sleeker version of the quinjet. It was most definitely small, shiny, and new. It could also track the location of the current quinjet, something she imagined Tony had built in because he planned to attach the smaller one to the larger one in some way, shape or form—at least according to his _very_ lengthy instruction manual on the craft. The team would have the ability to split off from the larger jet with a more covert team.

She also imagined future endeavors included adding a tracker into the original quinjet for the smaller one, though she imagined by now that it clearly wasn't done yet—if it had then she likely would have received some _very_ unhappy words from Bruce, Tony and her former teammates.

The bright side was that while Scott had been suiting up, as ridiculous as his suit looked, she had raided the tech room. They may have been on Plan 'Not Even a Plan Anymore' but that certainly didn't mean that she was going to go into this half-cocked. She had the garrote tucked into her boot, one that was Tony Stark enhanced to electrocute nonetheless, though it did have a maximum of three uses before it became a normal garrote. There was also the tracker that she could activate and swallow, another useful invention of Tony's that she could be grateful for. All spies knew that the ones that attached to your teeth only led to a lot of painful dental work.

It was only a temporary tracking device but at least it would be useful in case things went awry and she got taken elsewhere. The idea of that was unsettling, especially after Sri Lanka because although she never said as much to Tony nor Bruce, both of whom had already gone crazy enough over the nanites injected into her, she still didn't feel quite like herself. It was the real reason she hadn't said anything earlier to Bruce over his overabundance of lab time.

Yet another lie in her masquerade of the truth. Natasha persistently and insistently told him she was fine, that nothing was wrong with her even when she knew something wasn't quite up to par. If she told him the truth about it now then he would never believe another single thing she told him.

She was drowning their relationship in a sea of lies and she had a feeling that what she was doing now was going to put her far out of reach of a life preserver.

"You're over thinking this," she heard Scott tell her from the co-pilot's seat.

"Much as I wish that were true, I'm fairly certain that I'm under thinking this," she admitted. Fortunately for her, Scott couldn't seem to see past her air of indifference. "Last time I was a captive it didn't go so well for me," she tacked on.

Natasha saw Scott cringe from the corner of her eye. "Heard about that," he told her, "things got pretty dicey?"

Dicey was putting it mildly. "You could say that," she replied nonetheless. "Thing is I've done some research on this Ulrich Klein," she informed him, her voice still seemingly uncaring of what she was telling him, "far as I can tell I've never met him before—never did anything that hurt him or anyone close to him."

"So why's he interested in you and only you?" Scott questioned.

She gave a half-smile and inclined her head to the side slightly, "That's the million dollar question, isn't it? I haven't even been in the game since that last incident over four months ago." Unfortunately she knew what it was like to be Scott in these circumstances, to be going into something without all the information from the person who sent you. Nick Fury had done it to her more times than she could count and so she looked over at him now before she spoke, "I did find one thing."

The man looked interested. "What was that?" he asked her.

"He did some work with the US military as a private contractor," Natasha told him, "except I wasn't able to pull any files on _what_ he worked on."

"The military?" Scott asked with a furrowed brow, "as in—"

"Yeah," Natasha answered, "he worked under the supervision of one former General, Thaddeus Ross, contracted out by a company called A-R-C."

"Ark? Seriously?" he questioned with an exaggerated eye roll, "do you think these people just pick an acronym and _then_ put words to it?"

She chuckled at his comment. "Wouldn't surprise me," she admitted with a shrug.

"What's it stand for? The Arrogant Riffraff Center? Or would that be TARC? Is the T still left out or do they include that when it's the first word because just 'Arrogant Riffraff Center' doesn't quite have the same ring to it without the 'The'."

Natasha snorted but ignored his rant, "Advanced Research Corporation."

"Egotistical bunch of pricks, aren't they?" came his next quip.

As much as she hated to admit this to herself, she was starting to like him. "Mmhmm," she hummed in agreement. She eyed the tracker and noted that Scott hadn't been wrong, they were quite a ways ahead of the original quinjet even though they had left thirty minutes behind them. This really was an impressive little jet Tony made. It purred like a kitten, it moved quick and it handled _remarkably_ well. So far.

"So I suppose we don't know what ARC actually researches so—uh...advanced-ly, do we?" came his next question.

Natasha could feel the slight nervousness coming from him despite his outwardly carefree appearance. "Unfortunately, no. I couldn't find a damned thing about any of their work. They're more tight-lipped than Tony, granted not his actual mouth, but rather in whatever they work on."

The joke worked because Scott did chuckle. She saw him glance out the window of the quinjet before he asked, "That the place?"

"That's the place," she concurred, "better make yourself scarce."

"Aye, aye, captain," he told her with a mock-salute. "Any place in particular you want me to hide on your body?"

Natasha rolled her eyes.

"I could hang off your earlobe like an earing."

"Scott—"

"Is cleavage an option?"

The glare she shot him must have been more than fearsome.

"Kidding! I'm kidding," he assured her.

She watched as he shrunk down and became barely visible. While she prided herself on her perceptive abilities, she wasn't entirely sure she would notice the man in his ridiculous suit if she didn't already know he was there.

Scott hopped up to rest in the crevice between the top of her ear and her face and she rolled her eyes at his comment, "I'll just be right here. The little voice inside your head."

"You better be damned quiet," she warned him, moving her hair over her ear as she landed the jet. She squeezed the tracking device to activate it before she swallowed it dry.

"You're eating at a time like this?"

Natasha was sincerely afraid she would swat him like a bug before she ever got out of the jet. "Scott—"

"Shutting up."

She landed the jet in a clearing far enough away from the building to not be noticed right away but close enough that he _would_ see her coming. She certainly didn't want to go surprising a man who had a bunch of kids hostage.

"Don't swat me for talking," Scott told her, "but you can leave the quinjet cloaked—theoretically—using that teal button on the upper left, even as you're getting out of it. That way your escape ride is, well you know, still there."

For once she sighed but she wasn't pissed that he spoke. "Theoretically?" she questioned.

"Again, hasn't been tested."

Natasha wondered if _anything_ about this thing had been tested before now. "Guess I'll have to tell Tony his new jet is fairly up to par," she decided.

" _Fairly? I'll have you know, that jet is the epitome of perfection,_ " came his voice over the quinjet all of the sudden, " _Natasha, what the hell are you doing?_ "

She glanced over at the monitor where his face appeared before she answered, "Well, you got the alert for that tracking device faster than I thought you would."

Natasha heard the mumbling of voices before she watched as Tony moved aside and Bruce sat down in front of the screen in his stead. " _Natasha, don't do this,_ " his words were almost pleading in their request and a large part of her wanted to do as he asked. She wanted to stop. " _Just stay there—_ wait _for us_..." he pleaded now.

"I can't," she finally told him, "you know I can't."

She sighed as she hit the button to lower the ramp for her to leave and was about to do so when Bruce's words stopped her, " _Don't go in there..._ " It didn't stop her. She stood up to move towards the ramp when his voice came out more raw, " _Natasha, please don't—_ " He seemed to realize that he needed a more viable argument than 'please don't' because he gave one in an instant, " _I love you..._ "

It was effective because she was frozen in place for a moment before she looked back at the monitor. "Bruce..." she murmured out.

"They're going to be here in thirty minutes, give or take," Scott's voice told her in her ear, "you need to make a choice here."

Scott wasn't wrong and that was when she realized that Bruce was the one manipulating _her_.

" _Natasha, please,_ " he tried again.

She was afraid that if she let Bruce keep talking then she might never leave. She gave him the smallest of smiles before she shook her head, "I'm sorry, Bruce."

She moved down the ramp quickly now, Scott's voice wavering in her ear, "Whoa! Steady at the helm there, woman! You've got a passenger!"

" _Natasha! Natasha, stop!"_

"You know, there was a train locomotoring it's way down the rails right at me once mid-fight," came Scott's distracting little voice in her ear. It was a fight internally not to snap at him or react in any way, shape or form; though she had a feeling he did it on purpose to help her ignore Bruce. "I stopped it. Well—completely decimated it is more like it."

Natasha didn't just want to kill him now as she moved towards the facility, she also wanted to inform him that 'locomotoring' was _not_ a word. She came to a sudden stop when the metal pole shot out of the ground just in front of her and she quirked an eyebrow up slightly as the blue light came from it, scanning her up and down from head to toe.

"And you should've seen the face on this thing. Big black eyes coming towards me."

Eyes? Natasha wanted nothing more than to tell him to shut up given that she was certain now that she was being watched. She couldn't say a word and so she stared at the scanner with an empty expression, waiting.

"Light blue train, gray faced, steely eyed gaze—flying down the tracks _right_ at me in the midst of battle," he continued the ridiculous story. "But I stuck my hand out and I just palmed it _—"_ he informed her in an all too serious manner before making a sound effect and using a mockingly deep voice, " _boof_! _There can only be one Highlander!_ "

Scott very nearly ruined her facade of indifference in that moment. She almost laughed to go along right along with it given that she'd watched more than enough cartoons with Clint's children. She was almost positive he was talking about Cooper's favored 'Thomas the Train' that the boy had watched quite often when he was a toddler. If she was being honest with herself then it was both the most absurd and yet hilarious thing she'd ever heard—albeit remarkably inappropriate and ill-timed given their situation.

"Hah! I almost gotcha on that one, didn't I?" he asked with a laugh, "true story though—totally happened. I fought a train and I totally won. Plus, you know, the bad guy—but the train thing was way cooler."

" _Miss Romanoff, I'm so glad you could come,_ " came Ulrich Klein's voice over a speaker in the scanner.

Scott's voice rang out, "Oh—my bad. Next time we better make a signal for when the bad guy shows up."

Thankfully she managed to stoically ignore Scott as she replied to the man behind the speaker, "I'll bet you are."

" _This way, this way,_ " his voice told her over the speaker.

Natasha would have asked 'what way' but a door to the building opened up. The feeling that she wasn't going to like what happened after she walked through that door had settled inside her, not that it was going to stop her. She headed through the door, getting a few feet down the empty hall before she scratched the ear where Scott was currently hanging out.

"Seriously? Kicking me off already?" he questioned. "Alright boss, you distract the crazy German guy, I'll go find the kids," he agreed.

Natasha barely noticed the tiny weight lift from her ear but she knew Scott had climbed off just as he said he would. She only made it half way down the hall when something _clicked_ beneath her feet. She didn't quite have time to comprehend what that meant before the floor dropped out from beneath her and she fell straight down.

It wasn't a long way. She fell a few feet down and landed on her feet in a crouch, one hand pressed against the floor to keep her balance. "What the hell?" she mumbled out, glancing around and pushing at the plexiglass that surrounded her. When she glanced up, the hole in the ceiling that she had fallen through was already closed again. She pushed her hands against the glass in each direction but she had a feeling she was well and truly screwed, at least for the moment.

Natasha stood up in her plexiglass cage of sorts. It wasn't large. Three feet across in each direction, maybe seven feet high. She could stand in it without issue but it wasn't exactly a comfortable abode for any length of time. Still, she had known what she was getting herself into when she came here of her own accord, albeit the trap door in the floor that dropped her into this cage _was_ unexpected.

"You truly have no idea what those nanites were meant to do, do you?" her would-be captor questioned.

She turned her head back in the direction of the man who spoke, Ulrich Klein, the German accent still weighing heavily on his words despite the English language he used. She didn't say anything, didn't reveal any emotion on her face. All she did was stare at him with an empty expression.

"They were one of a kind," he told her, circling her cage like a vulture—but she didn't turn with him—no, she just stared blankly any time he came into her field of vision. "Impossible to replicate," he mentioned next as he came to a stop in front of her, "which is why we needed you."

Natasha leaned against the plexiglass and quirked an eyebrow up at him as she folded her arms across her chest. "Alright, I'll bite. Those things burned out of my system within days," she pointed out to him as she gave the barest of shrugs, "so what use am I to you now, exactly?"

He snickered. "You truly don't know," he mumbled out. "Let me show you," he offered.

She watched as he pulled the syringe out and she couldn't hide her amusement. "Go ahead and open the cage," she dared him, "you won't live to stick me with that thing if you do."

"Oh I'm not letting you out," he assured her, "I built that for you. I know better than to let you out of it."

Natasha shifted her eyes to the side where the tiniest slot opened in the plexiglass but unfortunately there was nowhere for her to go that got her far enough away from being stuck by that.

"Just stand there and relax. Don't make this worse than it has to be," he stated with a chuckle and a bemused shake of his head.

She stood still, playing the part of the eager-to-please captive. Only the needle came through and he barely got any of her blood into the syringe before she jerked her arm up suddenly, breaking the needle off of the syringe on the other side. She plucked the needle from her arm despite the fact she'd made herself bleed because of her actions, having ripped the skin where the needle had been inside her. She shifted her face to look at him as she twirled the needle between her fingers while she spoke, "You know I'm going to kill you with this, don't you?"

"I don't doubt that threat for a second, Miss Romanoff," he answered as he walked away with the vial he plucked out of the syringe, "but this is enough for the test I need."

Natasha watched him as he put the vial into a tiny machine by the computer and she remained silent while he set the computer up to run whatever test he wanted to run. She waited until he wandered back in front of her before she spoke again, "So placate me here. What was inside those nanites that was so important you had to threaten a bunch of kids to get me here? What were they supposed to do?"

He chuckled, "They have a repair and reconstruction algorithm built in."

"Repair and reconstruction?" she dared to ask, "for what purpose?"

"Why, for Doctor Banner of course," he answered as though it were the most obvious explanation in the world, "they had his DNA inside of them."

If those things had Bruce's gamma radiated DNA within them, she supposed that might acount for why she wasn't feeling so hot lately. "Those were meant for him? To do what?" she finally questioned.

"His _original_ DNA."

That broke her facade of indifference and she narrowed her eyes at him instantaneously, "How would you have gotten that?"

"Leftover from his time working for the military," came the answer, "the only sample left that was untainted with his current mutated genetics."

Natasha swallowed dryly as she watched him. "You were going to use that on him," she murmured out, "repair and reconstruction, that's what you said. You thought if you used that on him that you could kill him."

"It would have killed his monster, repaired his DNA," the man corrected.

Natasha stared at him. To her that _was_ killing the Bruce that she knew. It was an instantly selfish thought that crossed her mind in that moment, one that she wished she hadn't had. Would or could a normal Bruce—a Bruce without his monster lurking within—still care about her so deeply that he could look past her own?

Worse yet...

How would he feel when he realized that his one chance at a cure died when it was injected into her instead of him?

It also begged the question—one that she asked him once she wrapped her mind around what he had already told her, "Then what exactly did those things do to _me_?"

"So you think they _have_ done something?" Ulrich asked her. Though she didn't answer, she also didn't deny it. "The nanites will have found error in your DNA and in the DNA in which they were meant to repair," he told her, tapping away at his computer. He glanced up at her, "I assume you understand."

"They would have tried to repair my DNA because it didn't match the DNA of Doctor Banner," Natasha told him, "I'm following."

"Smart as a whip, you are," Ulrich replied. "It is my thinking that your own DNA should now be—slightly rearranged."

She didn't bother to tell him that _that_ was something that Tony, Bruce and Helen would have noticed, at least by now.

"While my test runs, I also feel inclined to inform you that your little friend who came with you?"

Natasha's chin shot up in an instant as she looked to Ulrich now.

"Oh yes, I'm aware he's here," he informed her, "and I imagine you sent him looking for those children, but he'll be searching for a while yet."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, "There's no kids?"

Ulrich smirked, "Of course there are, right in this very facility." He gave a shrug that showed he didn't much care about Scott's presence though, "Unfortunately for you I was prepared for several of your teammates' interference—albeit _he_ is not one I knew of." The man tapped a steel ball of a machine that had a few blinking lights on it before he spoke, "So many of your friends use those powered up suits. This little creation depowers them."

Natasha knew exactly what that meant. Scott was stuck...ant-sized.

"It was already quite the large facility," Ulrich informed her with a chuckle, "for him it just became a _much_ larger area to search."

With no power to his suit she imagined that running down a single hallway would be a lot like running a mile.

"Sit back, Miss Romanoff, relax," Ulrich told her, "I'll come back in ten minutes, by then my computer should have results."

Natasha watched as he disappeared through a doorway. The moment he was gone she let her eyes wander every inch of the plexiglass. She pressed her hands to every part, pushing and prodding to see if it gave way to no avail. It wasn't as though she could have left even if she had found a way, not considering the kids who were still supposedly here somewhere.

Unfortunately other than that tiny slit that he had opened to inject her with, there was nothing for her to work with. She imagined that with enough time she could use it to get out, but the seven or so minutes she likely had left before he returned certainly wouldn't be enough.

"Incoming!"

She blinked several times as what _sounded_ like Scott came from above her. It was instinct that had her move against the plexiglass and hold a hand out. Sure enough, the miniaturized Scott landed in her palm and she quirked an eyebrow up at him. "Seriously?" she questioned as she raised him closer to her face, "how did you even—"

"I squeezed through the crack in the floor. Saw you go down," he informed her, "in retrospect, I realize I probably shouldn't have eaten that extra waffle for breakfast this morning. Tight squeeze."

Her eyes rolled of their own volition.

"So, small problem," Scott stated and she watched his tiny armored self shrug, "okay _massive_ problem. Suit's dead. Like dead-dead. And by massive problem I mean that—"

"You can't get bigger," she finished before he could work around the wording for it in an even longer winded explanation. "I know," she assured him, "you're going to have to go get help." She couldn't see it but she imagined he was frowning, "Scott, you know I'm right."

"You can just pop me right out that hole in the glass, I can find a way to open this thing," Scott insisted.

Natasha shook her head at that. "No, we can't take the chance. He could have a way to kill those kids if I escape—saving them is more important than breaking me out," she explained. "He'll be back any minute anyways, you won't have time. I'll put you back up through the ceiling. It's a straight shot back out of the facility."

"I don't like it," Scott mumbled.

"Trust me when I say, I probably like this a lot less than you," she informed him with a shrug, "but outside you were able to use your suit, you get out there and you can find the others. They should be here by now or close by."

Scott folded his arms, "Suddenly we're not worried about him hearing you?"

Natasha inclined her head to the side slightly, "Apparently he expected the extra company, just not your company. Don't think he's all too surprised to find out the others are on their way too if he's listening in."

"Yeah, alright," Scott told her, "not much of a choice here anyways, I guess." She raised her hand up to the ceiling again.

"Little to the left!" she heard his voice squeak out.

She rolled her eyes before shifting her hand to the left a little bit.

"Hold it steady!" was his next comment. She wondered just how loud he had to be yelling in that small state. Even his muttering was somewhat audible and she couldn't help how absurd this seemed when she heard his words, "Okay...two waffles too many. Annnd—here we go, upsy daisy!"

The tiny weight lifted off her hand and she folded her arms and leaned against the plexiglass again, waiting with only one thought in her mind.

Bruce was going to be pissed...

* * *

"Boss, a tracking device has just gone online," FRIDAY called out for all the team to hear.

Bruce glanced over as Tony looked up in a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"Who?" Tony questioned, "and where?"

"The signal is coming from our current destination," FRIDAY informed them, "I would hazard a guess to say it was Miss Romanoff."

Bruce felt his brow wrinkle in an instant before he asked the question, "That's impossible. She couldn't have gotten there before us, FRIDAY said earlier she didn't even bother to try and override your lockout on her in the jet."

"That would not be entirely true," Vision informed him, "Mr. Stark's new design for the quinjet was recently completed. In theory it is to be much faster than our current aircraft."

Bruce groaned before he looked over at Tony with a frustrated expression.

"What?" Tony grumbled out, "she didn't even _know_ about it, how was I supposed to expect she would find it, take it, and get there ahead of us in something she didn't know existed?"

Wanda sighed, "Because it was not her idea."

Sam had his hand covering his eyes while he shook his head, "Man...I knew it was too easy to make that man stay behind this time."

Steve was shaking his head as well when he spoke, "Stark, tell me you can contact her on that jet."

"Yeah...yeah, I can do that," Tony muttered, "gimme a minute and I'll hack in." He could hear his friend grumbling under his breath, "forced to hack into the communications of my own creation..."

A moment later Natasha's voice sounded over the speakers and her voice was an immediate balm to ease Bruce's worry, at least for the moment, " _Guess I'll have to tell Tony his new jet is fairly up to par._ "

"Fairly? I'll have you know, that jet is the epitome of perfection," Tony responded in frustration, tapping at a few more controls before he asked the important question, "Natasha, what the hell are you doing?"

Natasha didn't look entirely surprised when she appeared on the screen before them and looked at Tony, " _Well, you got the alert for that tracking device faster than I thought you would_."

Bruce knew he was frowning when Steve put a hand on his shoulder and spoke, "Bruce, you're the only one that stands a chance at convincing her not to walk into that place."

Given what he last said to her before he left, he didn't quite believe that. She had already lied to him on several occasions in just a few hours but even so, the worry was far stronger than his anger and he quickly switched places with Tony.

Much to Bruce's relief, Natasha looked equally as relieved to see him and his words came out without anger and instead more sadly, "Natasha, don't do this." Her mask wasn't there as she looked at him, simply an apologetic look and so he tried again. This time he was definitely pleading, "Just stay there— _wait_ for us."

Natasha's eyes were almost remorseful as she looked at him. " _I can't_ ," she finally responded, " _you know I can't._ "

He watched as she hit a button and turned away but he didn't stop trying to convince her, "Don't go in there..." But it didn't work because she stood up and moved to walk away. "Natasha, please don't—" and then he made more of last ditch effort of desperation on his part with his next words, words he hoped might actually convince her, "I love you... _"_

Much to his surprise she froze completely before she turned back to look at him. The words had been spoken between them before, once on her part and several on his own, but he hadn't expected it to be so effective in halting her.

" _Bruce..._ " she murmured out.

The conflicted look on her face was even more unexpected and he thought he might have her convinced, so he continued his attempts to plead with her, "Natasha, please."

She gave him the smallest, saddest of smiles before she shook her head at him and responded, " _I'm sorry, Bruce._ "

Natasha took off on him, disappearing from his view on the screen and Bruce stood up from his seat in an instant, slamming his hands onto the arms of the chair, "Natasha! Natasha, stop!"

It was eerily silent all around him and Bruce didn't break the sound barrier as he sank back into the seat in defeat.

Much to his surprise it was Wanda who took the seat beside him and broke the silence as they neared the destination almost thirty minutes later, "She doesn't mean to hurt you, Doctor Banner. You know that as well as I do."

"I know," Bruce agreed with a sigh, "but she's also _really_ good at it..."

"It's ironic really," Wanda commented with a bemused expression, "the ones we love should be the only ones who don't hurt us—yet because we love them they're the only ones who truly can hurt us."

Bruce had never really thought about it in that way before but Wanda wasn't wrong. If he didn't love Natasha then her actions today wouldn't have driven him so crazy. He wouldn't be hurt by the fact she would lie to him or hide things from him.

"Boss," FRIDAY called out, "I was doing a geological survey to determine the best location to land without being seen, my sensors have picked up an aircraft near the facility."

"The new quinjet?" Sam questioned.

"I thought that thing was supposed to be invisible on sensor," Rhodey mentioned.

Bruce could see Tony rolling his eyes as he spoke, "Take a look at that thing. It's a big honking thing. That is _not_ my new design."

Sure enough they could see it as they looked out the windows of the quinjet, circling in stealth while FRIDAY found a designated good area to land.

"If he gets her on that jet this'll turn into Sri Lanka all over again," Bruce mumbled as he rubbed at his eyes.

"That's not going to happen, Bruce," Steve assured him and the soldier clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly manner, "this time we're all here to make sure that it doesn't."

Bruce opened his mouth to respond when their own quinjet shook violently. He looked out the window almost immediately, seeing the smoke billowing out from the roof of the facility—the facility that Natasha was inside of—that those children she had been so determined to save were inside of.

"FRIDAY, land! It doesn't matter where now, we need to go in!" Tony ordered his AI.

"Right away, Boss."

* * *

 **Stayed tuned for chapter 3 where we'll find out just what went bump in the night, operation kid rescue begins and things start to get a little...green.**


	4. Chapter 4

To all my readers, I sincerely apologize for my absence. There hasn't been a lot of time for me to write. My grandfather is losing his fight to leukemia and it's been a rough time. All of my time is spent between work and going to his house after to help take care of him so he can be at home. Still, my story has been on my mind and when I get the chance I've been writing when I can. Updates will be slow for a little longer but I promise I'm not abandoning this story. This trilogy is my favorite escape from life and I desperately need that.

That being said, here's the answer you've all been waiting for.

 **Chapter 3** :

" _One can't just build little white picket  
fences to keep the nightmares out."_

Natasha heard the computer beep and she assumed that meant that whatever test Klein had run had finished, not that she could see the results. The computer was facing the opposite direction and if that wasn't frustrating enough, Klein hadn't returned upon its completion. The answer that Bruce, Tony and Helen Cho had been working for four months to find could be right on that computer screen and she couldn't even see it.

It felt like ages of waiting, though in reality it was only a few minutes, before Klein came back. He went straight to the computer and she watched him with a neutral expression regardless of that fact her nerves were frayed. He looked confused as he looked from the computer, back to her, then back at the computer again.

"This is..." he pushed his glasses to the brim of his nose to take a second look before he pushed them back into place and looked at her again with a look of wonder, "unexpected."

Natasha wondered if 'unexpected' was a bad thing, though she refused to give him the satisfaction of asking what it was he found. Instead she just stood quietly, waiting as he looked through his results.

"You've become even more valuable to us," Klein stated with a chuckle, "this is better than I could have imagined."

That was unsettling in more ways than one, not that she would show him that. The man was finally walking away from the computer and towards her when her ears rang from an explosion and the back of her head hit the plexiglass from the sudden jarring movement it caused.

Everything was dark for a minute or two before she got her eyes to focus again. It was certainly a sturdy cage he built because there was debris everywhere, including one large piece on top of Klein, yet she was mostly unscathed inside the plexiglass—albeit without a means to exit it.

Natasha sincerely doubted this was the Avengers' method of a rescue, not with children's lives on the line, which meant that Klein apparently had enemies of his own. She could hear three sets of footsteps over the ringing in her ears and she shifted her eyes in the direction they came from. One set of those footsteps belonged to the last person she expected to see.

She found herself in a stare down with Stasia Balsovich, the woman who _should_ have been her mother but instead had always been known to her as Madame B. She only shifted her gaze when one of the two men with her reached down and placed his fingers against Klein's neck.

"He's dead," the soldier informed Stasia. Then he looked up at Natasha herself, "What do you want to do about her?"

Stasia merely shrugged without care. "Leave her," she ordered, "we destroy the lab, we leave. Bury our biggest mistake in the rubble."

"Yes, ma'am."

A mistake. That shouldn't have been something that could tug painfully at something inside her and yet for some sick reason; it hurt. It didn't hurt for the reason it would hurt most people if they were told that by a parent. It struck a cord because it was true. She _was_ a mistake in every sense of the word, to almost everyone who met her. She was a mistake to Bruce, to a man who could tell her he loved her whenever he wanted and yet she hadn't been able to let the words out since that first time four months prior.

Bruce's pure and unselfish love was being wasted on someone like herself, on a mistake, and she had a feeling he was beginning to see that too after today.

Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly as Stasia moved to walk out the door without so much as a second glance at her. The woman only stopped when the computer caught her eye. It was the first time Natasha saw a genuine look of surprise on the older woman's face in her entire life as Stasia's eyes drifted over to meet Natasha's own. Whatever Stasia saw, Natasha didn't expect the outcome of what happened next. The woman raised the gun from her side and put a bullet in the back of the heads of both men that had been with her.

She watched with baffled curiosity as Stasia stepped over their bodies and found what she was looking for. By the time Natasha understood _what_ she was doing, one panel of the plexiglass cage around her opened. One part of her wanted to rush the older woman, kill her, but the part of her with questions won out, "Why would you do that?"

Stasia raised a single eyebrow before moving to the computer screen. "You obviously don't know," she answered, "so come see for yourself."

It was another moment where she was torn in what she wanted to do. Needing to know what made Klein believe she had become 'more valuable' to him and what would make Stasia kill her own men to save her life was the winning decision as Natasha moved to the computer beside the older woman. She let her eyes settle on Stasia for a moment before she dared to look down at the screen.

And she felt Stasia's eyes on her—waiting to see her reaction.

Natasha couldn't quite come to terms with what she saw on it. "That..." her words couldn't quite form as she stared at it, "that's not possible..."

"I'm very well aware."

Yet the word flashed across the screen in big bold red letters to confirm the impossible.

 **Pregnant**.

It was a joke.

A sick and twisted joke; and it wasn't the least bit funny.

"Get out of here," Stasia told her, not that her mind could really comprehend the words as she continued to stare at the screen. Fingertips grasped her forearm and finally Stasia's voice hammered through the disbelief, "Natalia, _go_."

She watched as the older woman deleted the file, as the one word that she never imagined she would see was wiped from existence. When it was gone from sight her senses finally came back to her. She pulled the keyboard from beneath Stasia's fingertips and began typing herself.

"What are you—"

"I came here to save these kids," Natasha told her, bringing up the security cameras to locate them and pointing at the dozen children locked inside a room, "that's what I'm going to do."

Stasia quirked an eyebrow up. "You'd think you would be putting yourself first now," she mentioned.

Natasha couldn't believe she was even having a conversation with this woman let alone explaining her actions to her. She bit the words out, "Well I guess I just didn't get that particular self-preservation skill from your rather stellar gene pool."

She ignored the woman now as she pulled the garrote from her boot in case she ran into any threats before she headed down the hall that would lead to the kids. She heard Stasia's footsteps following behind her within seconds.

"Why are you coming with me?" Natasha dared to ask, "and better yet, why did you help me in the first place?"

"That's my grandchild," Stasia stated matter-of-factly.

The word alone made Natasha's stomach turn and she didn't hesitate in her response, "Even if that test was right, and that's a _big_ if, this isn't your grandchild." She let her feet continue carrying her down the hall as Bruce's words left her own lips, "You're just some woman who gave me half her DNA but that doesn't make you a mother, it definitely doesn't make you mine."

"I suppose not," Stasia agreed, "but I made you into the best."

Natasha turned on her in an instant, gripping the woman's shirt, "You turned me into a monster!"

"Emotions running a little high lately?" Stasia questioned with a smirk, "hormones do that."

As if Natasha needed a lesson on the emotional roller coaster she was riding. At least now she had a reason for it, albeit a reason she wasn't sure she believed and wasn't sure how she felt about.

Then Stasia tilted her head to the side, "But can you really say I made you a monster? The world seems to think you're a hero, although from Russia's viewpoint you're a traitor; I should have killed you after that failure in Sri Lanka. I should have let you die today as well but I didn't do that either."

Natasha didn't have time for this fight and though Klein's test results would certainly explain her emotional responses of late—her emotional need for _more_ time with Bruce—she still couldn't let herself believe it was real. "I don't believe for a second that you're just helping me without an ulterior motive," she stated as she released Stasia's shirt.

Even as Natasha moved forward down the hall, she heard Stasia's footsteps behind her again, though no denial came from Stasia's lips at her former comment. The woman was nothing if not relentless. The unexpected question left the woman's lips now, "Well, I know why I haven't killed you, but why haven't you killed me yet?"

"You just saved my life," Natasha reminded her.

Stasia was walking beside her now rather than behind her and she saw the woman shrug from the corner of her eye. "You know that if it's real then you're in danger," came the next words from her.

Natasha frowned slightly as she looked over at her, "From who? You? Russia?"

"Not from me," Stasia assured her, not that Natasha believed it, "I had that pompous general use you to get Banner and _that_ worked. But you two were willing to give up your lives for each other and that's—you were never supposed to be capable of that." The woman glanced down at her stomach, "Or this. So no, you're not in danger from me but you _are_ in danger from _everyone_ else."

Natasha had no reply for that. She wasn't wrong about them being willing to give up everything after all, not that she believed Stasia was suddenly harmless. Fortunately she was saved from thinking about it because she heard the crying coming from up the hall and she stopped in front of the metal door, looking through the bars at the top. She went to yank the bar and unlock it when another explosion rocketed the building and instead she wavered on her feet.

She was more surprised to feel Stasia's arms grip hers. Natasha almost moved to hit the woman— _almost_. She realized just seconds before she moved to do it that the grip was a helpful one, meant to steady her. She lowered her hands and placed them back on the metal bar, pulling it to the side to unlock the door.

The voices inside all went quiet as she pulled the door open.

All except for one.

"Hey, yoo-hoo, Romanoff!"

Natasha quirked an eyebrow up as she glanced down and saw the miniaturized Scott hop onto her boot.

"Fell down through there," he called out as he climbed his way pathetically up her leg—it was actually an impressive feet given there wasn't any leeway to her suit for him to be grippingl. Though his voice was the tiniest squeak even though she knew he was yelling, once he was on her shoulder she heard him a lot more clearly, "still no power to this suit!"

Natasha glanced up at the hole in the ceiling and sighed.

"Here."

She turned to look at Stasia as the woman held out the metallic ball that Klein had earlier. Natasha made to take it when the woman pulled it back to herself.

"I'll give it to you, but then you're letting walk out of here," Stasia informed her.

It wasn't as though she were in a position to disagree, the place was falling apart around them. "Do what you want," she finally told her, "just hand it over before I _do_ kill you. After this though, we're even. You saved my life so I won't take yours today—but that won't happen twice." It was a code that Clint taught her over the years, a code that if she hadn't learned to live by then she might have lost herself further to the darkness rather than finding a place for herself in the world. It was a code that she wished she didn't have to follow right now, though she was afraid that if she sunk back into the darkness then she might not ever find her way out again.

"Noted," Stasia assured her, though she simply smiled as she held out the device again. Natasha took it from her hand in a fraction of a second. "Remember what I said," the older woman reminded her, "you'll never be safe after this."

Natasha didn't have time to worry about that warning and fortunately she had the sense to flick Scott off her shoulder before she turned the device off. She watched as the man grew back to his normal size in mid-air, while in the middle of falling back on his rear end.

"That was just rude," Scott mumbled out, "but thank God, I was afraid my daughter would make me a permanent decoration on her train table if I was stuck like that. Couldn't even muster the usual enhanced strength while that thing was on, real pisser on the latter part."

Natasha ignored him as she looked at all the kids cowering against the wall. She finally moved towards the one that looked the oldest, though still quite young, and she crouched down in front of the little boy. Apparently he recognized her because his hand reached out and touched her face before one word came out, heavily accented, "Avenger."

He was Russian. She wondered if Klein did that on purpose. She also wondered after that if Stasia was involved after all but when she turned to look, the older woman was gone. If she was involved then she certainly had an odd way of going about it, not that she would be all too surprised if it _was_ some sort of twisted little method.

She spoke to him in her first language and his, one he would understand, as she placed her own hand on top of his head and ruffled his hair, "That's right. That's Scott there, he's going to lead the way out and you and the other kids will follow, and I'm going to be right behind you guys making sure you all get out. Okay?"

The boy nodded, "Yes."

"Scott," Natasha called back, but the man was already at the door and waiting, "according to the cameras I looked at before, make a left at the end of this hall. That hall should lead out through a back door."

"Got it," he agreed. "Come on, kids!" he called out, waving them towards him.

Natasha smiled a little when all the kids stared at him and she spoke in Russian once more, "Go now. Follow the man in the funny suit."

Fortunately the boy that recognized her moved first which was convincing enough to get the other kids moving. The dozen kids followed Scott like a herd and Natasha took one last glance around the room before she moved to leave behind them. It was the sudden sniffle that made her stop even while the rest of them continued down the hall. She turned and looked again before she crouched down and looked under one of the black metal rimmed beds.

The little girl staring back at her couldn't be more than three and Natasha took a deep breath before she moved closer and knelt down. "It's okay..." she whispered softly, though the little girl didn't seem to agree as she moved further beneath the bed.

Given the way things were shaking and pieces of the ceiling were raining down dust and debris, it probably really wasn't 'okay'. Or at least it wouldn't be for very long.

"Come on, sweetie," she said next, "I can take you somewhere safe. _Home_."

The little girl looked at her with big eyes, silent for over a minute and a half before she responded, "Home? Papa?"

"Home, to papa," Natasha repeated with a small smile.

The little girl slowly crawled forward now and Natasha was relieved when the little blonde girl was close enough to pull safely into her arms.

* * *

Bruce didn't hesitate to move first as the jet landed, Tony's voice speaking even as Bruce made for the ramp, "Tracker shows Natasha is fairly close to this entrance."

He was putting the comm in his ear as he moved down the ramp with Steve, Tony and the others not far behind him, when Scott Lang shoved open the door they were about to go in.

Bruce watched in slight shock as kid after kid ran out, Scott ushering them along.

"Scott, where's Natasha?" Steve asked immediately.

The man looked back behind him in an instant, clearly alarmed by the question.

Bruce looked down when a little boy tugged on his shirt and pointed back at the building. "Galina," the little boy stated. Bruce frowned as his brow wrinkled slightly. "Galina!" the boy yelled this time.

It only took a moment for Bruce to figure it out. Galina was a name. One of the kids was still inside and Bruce knew that meant Natasha was likely inside with them.

"I'll get them," Steve stated, moving forward.

Bruce shook his head, grabbing Steve's arm. "That place is falling apart, your shield won't protect you, Natasha _and_ a kid," he reminded him. Loathed as he was to say the next part, he did, trying to give a little belief in his angrier half for once rather than letting Natasha do the believing for them both, "...I can."

Steve looked a little weary but he nodded, "Do it."

He hadn't been asking for permission even though he had gotten it. Bruce was already moving towards the open door and he heard Scott yelling after him.

"Make a right at the end of the hall, that's where we were!"

He did just as Scott said, running as fast as he could. It was desperation and fear. Anger and a painful reminder that he couldn't lose her. He was honestly afraid that losing Natasha would cut the strings on the delicate balance of slight understanding that he and the Other Guy had come to recently.

When he rounded the corner he nearly ran into her, the dirt covered little girl held tight in her arms, and Natasha's eyes looked wild, relieved and vulnerable all at the same time. Her eyes held something else too, something he couldn't decipher. It was a look they shared for maybe a quarter of a second and yet it felt like it went on for ages before he put his arm around her to lead her towards the exit.

Both their feet moved. One foot after the other. Faster. Faster. Faster.

Concrete dust was falling around them, tiny remnants of the ceiling raining down.

Natasha's gaze kicked upward and Bruce saw it just after. Cracks, almost fissure-like, making an ungodly noise as they spread overhead and towards the doorway not too far off. They weren't going to make it through that door before it caved in and Bruce felt the Other Guy rumbling inside him, taking over at Bruce's internal request, though he had a feeling it would have happened regardless. As much control as Natasha gave him with the Other Guy, the control was just as easily lost in her presence because of his feelings for her.

He still felt some semblance of awareness even as the green took over and everything inside of him painfully stretched, grew, and momentarily became unbearable. Bones under so much pressure they should have snapped and yet they became stronger.

Bruce was still present when the Other Guy's arm that wasn't behind her back lifted her off the ground from behind the knees and pulled both her and the child she held in her arms close to his chest.

It was the moments after that where he faded away and the Other Guy became his own person completely.

* * *

Natasha didn't remember getting out of the building. She remembered it collapsing. She remembered it smelling a lot like the fire, dust and smoke of Jersey when Steve not only saved her from the base's collapse, but then pulled her from the wreckage and carried her to safety.

It couldn't have been more than a minute that she was out cold but suddenly oxygen flooded into her lungs and the dust and smoke started to clear. It was eerily silent, or maybe her hearing was temporarily impaired-a more likely scenario given the circumstances—but as she looked from the little girl trembling in her arms to the big brown eyes of The Hulk, the softness and gentleness within them as he stared back down at her gave her the safest feeling she had felt in her entire life.

The feeling was temporary until she was reminded of _what_ she learned. The reminder was almost painful. Where did you hide when something inside you was something that the entire world would try to take to control you—to control the only thing you had ever learned to love? Where did you run to?

Her whole mind was in a fog and she didn't recall the Big Guy setting her down, yet she was sitting on the ground, staring down at the child in her arms. The little girl was finally opening her eyes, letting loose her tight grip on Natasha's suit before her big eyes took everything in—including The Hulk.

She let the child loose from her arms when she started to squirm. The panic flared through her chest as she tried to comprehend the unknown. She wasn't fit to be a mother, she wasn't even fit to be in a relationship.

Natasha knew the truth. She was created to _take_ lives, not to create them. She knew it, Bruce knew it—hell, everyone knew it.

And Bruce? He would run—run from her, from this.

Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't breathe.

A ringing finally settled through her ears, then through that ringing she heard the remnants of a voice.

"Nat..."

She sucked in a short and painful breath as her chest tightened before she recognized the voice, before she understood someone had been saying her name for a little while.

"Natasha!"

She stared openly at Steve who was crouched down in front of her—something of which she didn't remember happening—blue eyes filled with worry and uncertainty, and she realized her own hand was tightly gripping his arm, probably painfully so.

She heard the Big Guy grunt with obvious displeasure and she shifted her eyes in that direction, surprised to see that little girl they rescued tugging at his leg.

Natasha could breathe again as she tilted her head to the side slightly, watching as the Big Guy huffed in annoyance but allowed the toddler to give his leg some form of hug. Regardless of his noises of frustration, he almost looked a little awed by the child, fascinated in the strangest way.

Tony's voice finally broke through her mind's current disarray. "Nat, maybe a lullaby is in order?" he questioned.

He wasn't wrong but for the first time she couldn't make her mind cooperate, she couldn't just turn it off. The Big Guy was looking between her and the child attached to him now before he huffed, almost daintily picked up the child by the back of her shirt using two fingers, something of which had the little girl giggling, then he stomped over in Natasha's direction.

She could see the way Tony was trying not to laugh as the Big Guy almost distastefully put the little girl in Steve's arms. It probably would have made her laugh before this; before she had to wonder how to protect a child when lately she hasn't been able to protect herself.

"Tah-sha..." those two syllables that made up part of her name rumbled from the Big Guy's mouth and got her focus back a little as he held her hand in his giant one. He crouched down, though she still had to look up to be eye to eye with him.

Natasha stood up and _now_ they were level. Face to face. She raised her free hand up and ran her fingertips across the side of his face. "You always save me..." she told him quietly.

She could see the confusion in his face. He was expecting his lullaby but choices were taken away from for her entire life, even this one, the choice to make life. That choice was taken away _twice_ and she didn't even know that was possible. First she had the ability to do it taken, then suddenly it was just something that was there, something growing inside her. She was losing all semblance of control over her own life.

"What you do..." Natasha told him, "it's your choice, Big Guy..." She pulled her hand from his and rested it on the other side of his face, then rested her forehead against his. "I don't want to make choices for you anymore. No more lullabies. What you do—what you do is whatever _you_ decide," she assured him.

When she pulled her forehead away from his and moved away, opening her eyes, for the first time she saw his face holding no signs of anger—no scowl lines. He looked like a genuine gentle giant. He didn't say anything and Natasha didn't either; The Hulk merely pulled her gently to him and wrapped his large arms around her in a hug.

She felt something wet at the corner of her eye. She felt it trail its way down one cheek as The Hulk slowly shrunk down to Bruce in her embrace.

Now if only she could find a way to start making the choices in her life her own again.

* * *

 **Alright, I know it's not as long but if I go smaller, you guys won't have to wait as long as you've had to recently so I figure that's the best choice for now.**

 **Hope you guys are still around and that I haven't let you down with this latest chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

It's been a pretty bad five months but I think I'm finally back in the proper state of mind. I sincerely apologize for my disappearance but I did promise any of you who are still waiting and reading that I wouldn't be abandoning this story and I truly won't. This chapter is for my grandfather, a man who taught me everything except for _one_ thing...and that was how to live without him.

 **Chapter 4** :

" _I never thought I'd be happy alone. I just thought if I  
loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make  
it. It's easier to be alone. What if you learn that you  
need love and you don't have it? What if you like it and  
lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and  
then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain?"_

"Natasha?"

She glanced up at the calling of her name. Tony was flying herself and Bruce back home with Wanda riding shotgun. She knew it wasn't Wanda's thoughts on the matter but it was certainly Steve's. Wanda was the 'Official Avenger' babysitter of the group of four while the other Avengers returned the children to where they belonged. It was fine by her. She hadn't been a fan of Russia in a long time, even less so given the current circumstances. She had been silent for most of the flight, for however long they had already been in the air, though she hadn't paid any attention to how long that truly was.

To be frank, Natasha wasn't sure what to think—what to do—what to feel.

But she did know who she needed.

She shifted her eyes over to Bruce who had been waiting for her to finally look at him before he said anything further. Worry was etched into his expression, something that she was afraid would become a permanent fixture for him if she told him what was going on.

"What did he do to you?" Bruce finally questioned with a frown, "what did he say?"

Natasha parted her lips to answer him but only silence came out. What was she supposed to say? ' _Sorry but your first real chance at a cure was put inside me and now I might be carrying your child that shouldn't be physically or logically possible?_ '. She didn't imagine that would go over very well, hell, it wasn't going over well in her own head at this very moment.

Bruce's hand came to rest over hers and she closed her mouth. So instead he spoke again, "You're not the same."

There was no doubt about that. Natasha wasn't sure she would ever be the same again.

"Well, maybe while she's trying to figure out how to speak again we can discuss The Hulk getting hugged by that kid," Tony piped up, "because that was hil- _arious_. Hilarious in Hulk fashion. It was Hulk-arious. Hulk-erific. Hulk-tastic."

Wanda was snickering and Natasha saw Bruce blinking several times in response to Tony's statement.

"A kid hugged him?" Bruce questioned.

"Yep," Tony answered, "hands down the funniest thing I've seen in years, that and the part where he sort of picked her up like she was tainted and passed her off to Rogers."

Wanda was chuckling again, "Mmm, perhaps when you and Pepper have a child he will make for a very good babysitter."

Bruce was groaning because, as Natasha and likely Wanda knew as well, that was going to goad Tony into continuing. And continue Tony did, "I don't know about that. Red sneezed once and the Big Guy threw a tantrum. I mean—what do you think, Bruce? Hulk-sitter? Yay or nay?"

She found herself watching Bruce for his response. It wasn't as though any of them knew just how dead on the topic of this conversation was and it was saving her from needing to feel the situation out herself if what she was told turned out to be her new reality.

"Yeah, I'm sure that'll be a great idea," Bruce responded sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, "he's not exactly what I'd call child-friendly."

"That kid liked him," Tony countered, "and I'd say it went pretty well."

"Somehow I believe your evil-spawn would be more dangerous to The Hulk than he to them," Wanda deadpanned.

Tony snorted out a laugh.

Natasha turned her head, took a steadying breath, then closed her eyes. _Not exactly child-friendly_. None of them were who she needed right now, not that she didn't need Bruce because she did, more so than she truly wanted to admit. In this exact moment however, she needed something more, something that _was_ child-friendly.

"Drop me off."

"What?" Tony questioned.

Apparently she'd said it too quietly. She turned from looking out the window and saw all eyes on her. "Drop me off," she told him again, "I need to go to Barton's."

"We can do that," Bruce told her.

Natasha merely shook her head, "Not we. Me." She could see the confusion and hurt plain as day on his face despite the fact it hadn't been her intention and she said the only other thing she could, albeit her voice was a little hoarse this time, "Please—just drop me off."

She could see Bruce swallow heavily before he nodded his head, "Alright..."

"I'll uh—I'll change course," Tony informed them, clearly confused by the situation however smart enough to know when _not_ to comment on it. She made a note to put a check mark in Tony's maturity column for that one.

Natasha glanced down at her hand that was still covered by Bruce's before she pulled it slowly from beneath his and placed it down on her lap. She didn't dare look at him now and instead she turned her head back to the window.

The silence was deafening for two hours and this time she knew it was that long because she counted. She counted the seconds as they ticked on into minutes. She counted them until they became a single hour, then she counted all over again until it turned into two hours. She could see Clint's house, could feel the jet descending, then she felt Bruce's fingertips hesitantly touch her knee.

The tension and apprehension in the jet was going to drive her insane if Tony didn't land soon.

"Whatever he did to you," Bruce told her, "whatever Klein told you..."

Natasha glanced over at him now.

"We can figure it out," he assured her, "together..."

She knew what he wanted. He wanted her to repeat it like she had back at the tower but she couldn't, not this time. She couldn't find any words again as she parted her lips and then smacked them together again. Instead she placed her hand over his this time and squeezed it ever so slightly, it wasn't that one single word he was looking for but it was something and he did at least look the tiniest bit relieved by that.

The silence continued for the next few minutes of landing. She could already see Clint on the porch, arms folded and watching with baffled curiosity. She supposed at some point Tony likely sent the archer a message about their impending intrusion.

Bruce's words broke through her thoughts, "I can stay with you..."

She turned her head back and looked Bruce in the eyes this time. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, resting one hand on his cheek at the same time. After a few seconds she pulled away just slightly. "I know but I—" she finally responded, "I just..." This was the most at a loss for words she had ever been, though it wasn't the first time around Bruce that she found herself incapable of her usual ability to compartmentalize. "I really do care about you..." she finally told him, though those hadn't been the words she meant to say, "I just...need some time."

Bruce's face was torn and she knew why. Because in the same sentence she once again admitted feelings for him and yet she also told him she didn't want to be around him. "Time for what?" he finally asked, "I don't—Natasha, I don't understand."

"You will," she assured him with a sad smile. She really wished she understood why in the hell it was so hard to just say three little words. It was supposed to be easy to tell someone you loved them, especially someone who you've already told before, yet the words—the words just kept getting lost and incorrectly translated on their way out of her mouth.

The door of the jet opened and she stood up, only pausing when Bruce grabbed her arm gently. "I'm not going to try to stop you," he finally told her before he made a quip, "plus we both know after last the time, that's clearly impossible..."

She gave a half-hearted smile to that one.

This time Bruce stood as well, nose to nose with her as he pressed his hand to her face in a near caress. "Natasha..." he murmured her name against her lips before he kissed her. She closed her eyes for that moment and only opened them again a few seconds after the kiss ended. "I love you, too," he assured her, the _too_ being the most fascinating part. His brain could clearly translate her inability to say what she truly meant to say.

Natasha wasn't entirely sure why that made everything hurt _more_. "I know," she finally. She tapped him on the side of the face with a small smile before she turned and left.

* * *

Bruce couldn't figure it out. He couldn't understand exactly what had transpired that made her want to be alone, to want to be away from him when just that morning she had told him she wanted to spend _more_ time with him. Natasha was the largest enigma inside of a human being that he had ever met and although admittedly it was one of the things he had grown to love about her, right now it was only frustrating.

Right now he could see it in her eyes, see it plain as day in her face—something was _very_ wrong. Something that she didn't know how to tell him, or didn't want to tell him; with Natasha it was hard to decipher the difference between the two. Maybe it was both or maybe it was neither. With her it could just be something she thought he didn't _need_ to know.

He couldn't exactly fault her for her flaws. He'd learned to love her _because_ of them—though she made it ridiculously difficult sometimes, even more so over the last day than any other time in the past.

It was her lost expression, her voice quiet and tinged with sadness. Something in her was broken and it was a concept he was painfully familiar with, just as he was unfortunately aware of the fact that right now, Natasha believed he couldn't put her back together.

That was what truly hurt.

"She'll come around," Tony told him with a confidence that Bruce didn't quite have, "she always does."

* * *

Laura watched from the doorway as Natasha walked up the steps of the front porch to Clint, or rather past him. She could see her husband about to question the redhead's appearance and she could also see the way he zipped his lips closed when Natasha glanced his direction, looked away, and then continued on inside towards Laura herself.

She bounced Nathaniel on her hip as her son lit up and waved both his hands for his beloved Aunt Nat. Laura gave Natasha a smile and was about to pass him off but the look on her face, it was like the poor girl was looking at her namesake as though she were staring at a ghost.

"I'm sorry..." Natasha murmured, "I just—I can't."

Laura frowned in an instant as the redhead took off up the stairs towards the bedroom, barely pausing to ruffle Lila's hair who had tried to say hello. She looked to her husband when he walked up next to her and she inclined her head towards the bedroom upstairs, "Go talk to her."

He looked a little wary, though for a reason that almost made her laugh, "What if it's—you know—a Bruce thing?"

She rolled her eyes before she shoved him with her free hand and used a more stern voice, "Go."

Clint just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders before he took Nathaniel from her. "Nat didn't come here to talk to me," he informed her, "I know the look she gives when she wants to talk to me and that wasn't it. She needs to talk to you."

Laura shook her head in disbelief. Up until four months ago Natasha had never come to talk to _just_ Laura herself, she always wanted to talk to her best friend, not to say they hadn't spoken about private things before...but until Bruce was in the picture the redhead had never bypassed Clint completely and opted for Laura herself. Still, Clint seemed certain and she sighed before she headed up the stairs. "For a supposed hero you are a complete coward," she called over her shoulder. For a moment she felt like one too as she stood outside the bedroom door. She knocked, not that she expected Natasha to answer, and just as she knew would happen, no response came from inside. "Nat?" she called out. Not a peep came from inside the room and she sighed before speaking again, "I'm coming in."

No voice came from the other side telling Laura to do otherwise so she pushed open the door. She supposed if Natasha really wanted to keep them out then she would have locked it but instead the door opened easily. Somehow in that short amount of time the redhead had managed to strip from her uniform and get dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants that she already had on hand here. If it wasn't impressive enough that she could strip out of that tight leather catsuit in two minutes flat, dressing in different clothes in that same two minute span was even thoroughly more impressive.

But Natasha was merely lying on her side on the bed, staring out the window as though she were looking into another world through it. Laura sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder. Those green eyes were a little red around the edges and she could see the way they glistened just a little. It was a rare thing to see, something Laura wasn't entirely sure how to handle before the words left her lips on impulse in a murmur, "You're home, Nat. If you want to cry, you can cry."

"I don't want to cry," Natasha responded, her voice sounding a lot stronger than the redness in her eyes made her look.

"That's fine too," Laura assured her, "whatever you want to do, whatever I can do, just tell me."

There was nothing but silence in response to her words for several minutes. Laura didn't take it as a cue to leave, not right away. She knew that even if Natasha wanted to talk that it would take her forever and a day to figure out how or where to start.

She also knew the option that the other woman preferred during these moments and she offered it, "Alright, it doesn't have to be right now. When you're ready, you just let me know."

Laura laid down on the opposite side of the bed and closed her eyes. The silence went on for a while until she was fairly certain the redhead was asleep. It was just after the first hour that Laura's eyes popped open. Natasha jerked upright, her breathing shaky and heavy. Laura sat up herself rather quickly, gently easing her hand onto Natasha's back.

"Hey..." she offered soothingly, "everything's alright."

She could see Natasha's eyes closed tight before she took a deep breath and finally spoke, "No, it's really not..."

Laura frowned slightly and tried to think of what to say—tried to think of _what_ could be wrong. Only a mother could have figured it out and Laura did despite the fact that Natasha likely didn't realize she was doing it. The redhead had a hand resting on her stomach. It was the key indicator, however she was questioning her judgment when she remembered it wasn't a physical possibility for the younger woman in question. "You're..." she paused before the half-question came out, "are you?"

"Apparently." The answer was short and curt with absolutely no denial, and given that Natasha clearly understood the question, Laura was more than a little surprised.

"I thought that you and Bruce didn't—"

"We don't."

Laura felt her brow wrinkle in utter confusion. "Then...how?" she finally questioned in her bafflement.

"Everything about me was genetically altered and engineered," Natasha stated without emotion, staring into the mirror across the room before she let out a distressed little scoff, "even this."

Laura opened her mouth to respond before Natasha looked at her, more sad than she had ever seen her look, and instantly her lips smacked closed.

"It was supposed to be a cure," Natasha informed her, "for Bruce." She huffed out a half-laugh before she commented again, "Or so I'm told." She shook her head before covering her face with her hands and rubbing at her eyes, "So those stupid nanites that Bruce and Stark have been studying this whole time? They held the only sample left of Bruce's original DNA from _before_ The Hulk. They had some repair function that was supposed to repair _his_ DNA."

Now Laura understood, not that she understood the science or _how_ this all worked, but she had a vague understanding. "And instead it's in you..." she hummed out.

"This wasn't an option..." she murmured, "it was never a possibility..."

Laura shook her head, "It'll be fine, Nat." She gave her a smile as she squeezed her shoulder. "You're amazing with Cooper, Lila, Nathaniel..." she reminded the redhead, "you'll be fine."

"That's one problem but not _the_ problem," Natasha told her. "The real problem is—is that we'll _never_ be safe. I've never been anything but an experiment. But a kid? Everyone will be after this child either as a science project or to use against Bruce, or me, or _both_ of us..."

Laura was at a loss for words.

"I just—I can't do this..." she whispered, "a baby? Its life can't be _anything_ like mine was, which is exactly what people will try to make happen."

Laura knew she could say what Natasha wanted to hear. She could tell the poor thing that something like that would never happen—but the world was cruel. People likely _would_ try to do all of the things that Natasha was afraid they would, it was the reason why Laura herself and the kids lived out in the middle of nowhere like they did, unknown and unseen. So instead she asked the question, "So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"Have you told Bruce?" Laura dared to ask.

Natasha shook her head.

"Okay..." Laura decided it was the best answer to give. "You go ahead and lay down, Nat," Laura told her before she tucked the redhead's hair behind her ear, "you're safe here."

Natasha didn't respond to the comment, she merely laid back down and faced away from her. It was only as Laura moved to get off the bed that Natasha spoke again, "Are you going to tell Clint?"

Laura didn't hesitate, "Not if you don't want me to." Then she felt the need to emphasize a point, "Or unless I think you're about to do something completely and utterly stupid."

Silence was the response for a good two minutes.

"Are you?" Laura asked her, quirking an eyebrow up, "about to do something stupid, I mean."

Natasha finally replied, although she didn't answer the question nor did she turn back to look at her, "You can tell him, one less awkward conversation on my end."

Laura chuckled before she inclined her head in agreement, "Fair enough..." She rested her hand on Natasha's shoulder one more time, "Hey..."

The redhead turned her head and looked at her.

"You're home," Laura reminded her yet again with a warm smile, then she repeated her second earlier comment, "you're safe here."

The look in those green eyes was as hollow as her voice, "No...I'm not." Natasha turned back over and looked out the window, "And you won't be either if I stay long..."

"Nat...let me call Bruce," Laura offered, shifting some hair out of the poor thing's face and tucking it behind her ear. "I know you don't know how to explain this to him but—"

"They were joking..." Natasha told her, huffing out a sad laugh, "about making the Hulk a babysitter..."

Laura frowned slightly as she noticed Natasha's eyes were wet again, yet still, no tears fell. The younger woman had far too much self-control in the emotional department, especially given the circumstances.

"Not child-friendly..." Natasha stated, "that's what he said..."

"You can't just judge how he may respond based on a comment he made during a conversation he had _no idea_ actually pertained to what was going on with you, Nat," Laura told her despite understanding Natasha's hesitation now. "I get it, I do...you probably believe those are his genuine feelings on the subject and _maybe_ they are, but you won't know unless you tell him the truth," she warned.

Natasha turned her head and gazed back at her again, the wetness in her eyes looking as though they may burst through the dam at any given moment.

"Let me call him..." Laura attempted again.

And the first tear fell, slowing streaking down the redhead's cheekbone in near slow-motion at first. "What if he leaves?" came the unexpected question, "at least this way, this time, it's _my_ decision."

Laura understood now exactly what Natasha was afraid of in telling him. "You're afraid he'll leave you..." she mumbled. "Sweetie," she said softly, "I don't think Bruce is like that and—and if it turns out I'm wrong and he is? Then he doesn't deserve you..."

Natasha covered her face with her hands. "It's the other way around..." she said quietly, muffled by her hands, "I don't deserve him, I don't deserve to have someone love me so—so openly or at all and..."

"Hey," Laura called out, pulling Natasha's hands away from her face, "Hey, Natasha, look at me." Suddenly Laura understood what hormones must have been like for everyone around her because the distress, the sadness and pain, even that single tear were just so... _not_ Natasha. "You deserve the world and more," Laura assured her when she finally looked at her, "and I don't ever want to hear you say you don't deserve to be loved again."

They sat in silence and it was companionable but not all that comfortable. Laura watched as a second tear fell. It was heartbreaking to see yet another reminder of just how messed up Natasha's life had made her. Laura was just afraid that without Bruce, and losing him over something that was out of her control, it might just make the younger woman spiral downward to a point of no return.

Laura stood up and headed towards the bedroom door.

"I need him..."

She turned and looked back at Natasha, more than a little surprised by the redhead's admission.

"And that terrifies me..."

Laura bit down on her lower lip before she spoke again. "It's human nature," she assured her, "to want someone, to need them...and to want to be wanted and needed in return." She gave her a knowing look as she folded her arms and smiled a little, "You're human, Nat. Despite what the world tried to do to you, I think they only served to make you even more human than the rest of us. You just hid it pretty damn well."

Natasha lips parted, smacked closed, then finally opened again and released the question, "What do I do?"

"What you do is your choice, Nat," Laura told her. "I know it doesn't feel like it and I know a lot of decisions in your life were made without your consent...but not all of them," she reminded her, "not what you do _now_."

"You'll call him?" came her question.

Laura smiled at the question. "Of course I will..." she assured her.

Natasha turned away from her again and Laura sighed before she exited the room and lightly pulled the door closed behind her. She glanced over the balcony of the stairs and down at Clint who was playing a mindless game of peek-a-boo with their son. It was like Clint knew and he looked up at her so she made her way down the stairs.

"Can you call them before they get too far?" Laura questioned, "it's important."

Clint looked more than a little worried but he put the baby in his swing and then pulled the laptop off the shelf above the TV. She watched him set it on the coffee table, open it, then use it to video call the quinjet.

Laura moved behind him as they waited in silence before Tony Stark and Wanda appeared on the screen with a worried looking Bruce Banner behind them staring out at nothing.

"Barton?" Tony questioned, brow ruffled in curiosity. Laura saw Bruce look up in an instant with hope, worry and confusion all wrapped neatly together in his expression.

"We need you to turn around," Laura told them.

"Why—"

"Turn around," Bruce told Tony in an instant, cutting off the question.

Laura had to appreciate that in the scientist, he didn't hesitate for a second and he didn't question why.

"Is Natasha alright?" Wanda questioned, worry also etched into her features and voice.

Laura never thought she would have to give the answer she did, "No—no she's not." She looked at Bruce in the back who had a permanent frown embedded on his face. "I know she probably told you otherwise, Dr. Banner...but she needs you."

Bruce looked like he wanted to ask questions but he chose the only one appropriate with company present, "How bad is it?"

She wasn't sure how to answer it. Was it bad? In some sense it was and yet in others it wasn't. But she had a feeling his question was more or less aimed towards Natasha's personal well-being and not to the actual issue itself. "She's..." and she paused, unsure of the right wording, "she's on a ledge that I'm not sure how to pull her back from."

The scientist's face looked almost panic-stricken, something she couldn't entirely blame him for, but he seemed to understand the gravity of her statement. She could see Clint eyeing her with his own worry now.

"We'll be there in an hour..." Tony finally interrupted.

"Tony," Bruce's voice sounded surprisingly stern.

"Forty-five minutes. I'll kick it into overdrive."

Laura gave them a sad smile. "Thank you..." she offered up gratefully before she moved around the couch and closed the laptop.

"So...are you gonna tell me?" Clint finally asked her.

She sat down beside him, leaning against the back of the couch. "She told me I could tell you," she admitted. Truthfully she wondered if she could explain it nearly as scientifically as Natasha herself had. "It has to do with those nanites four months ago," she finally stated with a sigh.

"The nanites?" Clint questioned, "are you serious? Four months later those things are finally coming back into the picture?"

The quip of a reply wasn't one she meant to come out but it did nonetheless, "More like nine months."

Her husband blinked several times before the light bulb seemed to click. He looked more than a little disturbed, "You're kidding me..."

"I really wish it was a joke but it's not," Laura told him with a shake of her head. "What she was told was that those things had some sort of repair feature...and that they had um—they had Doctor Banner's original non-Hulk DNA inside them," she explained.

"Nat's...pregnant? With uh—with Bruce?" Clint questioned. He looked more confused than before.

Laura chuckled at his confusion. "It seems so. It was supposed to uh—to cure Bruce. At least that's what they told Natasha," she explained to him.

Clint rubbed at his face in disbelief. "You mean kill The Hulk," he mumbled.

"Yeah..."

"Jesus..." Clint grumbled out, shaking his head, "this is messed up."

Laura couldn't entirely disagree. "They took this away from her without her consent and she didn't get to make this choice to have it back either—I'm not so sure that she can handle this one without him," she told him softly.

Clint took a deep breath, "She can...we can help her."

"I don't think we can," Laura told him sadly, "...she doesn't feel safe here."

Her husband looked more than a little upset by that and she didn't blame him. Natasha had always felt safe here and she knew she had to explain things.

Laura placed one of her hands over his and gave a reassuring squeeze. "You can't blame her for being scared, Clint—and I don't think she's wrong to be afraid of what people might do..."

"She's not wrong..." he agreed, "and that's what's not fair."

"Is Aunt Nat hurt?"

Laura glanced over at her oldest in the doorway. "No, Coop," she told him quickly, "she just—she had a really bad day."

"I thought she retired like Dad," Cooper reminded them as he walked fully into the room looking more than a little skeptical.

"You know how sometimes something really important happens and I still need to go?" Clint questioned his son. Laura watched Cooper nod and Clint just smiled sadly, "It was one of those for Aunt Nat."

"But if it's over then what's she scared of?" Cooper asked them, arms folded.

Laura should have known he heard much more than he let on.

"She's gonna be fine, Coop," her husband tried to reassure their son.

But Laura already knew that was the wrong approach, however it was too late to take it back now.

"That's what Aunt Nat says when she's lying," Cooper pointed out with a frown, "and you're lying, too."

"Cooper—" Laura attempted to stop the conversation but it seemed their son wasn't having it.

He just shook his head, "You always lie. Both of you _and_ Aunt Nat."

Cooper went to his own room before either she or Clint could think of what to say and really—he wasn't wrong. She saw Clint's gaze wander upward and she followed where he was looking only to see Natasha standing in the bedroom door. The poor thing just looked so—so guilty.

She paused when Cooper stopped and looked at the redhead and then he looked a more than a little guilty himself when he saw the look of guilt on Natasha's face—the sadness, the red eyes.

The silence was almost deafening before Cooper broke it with a tone more worried than a child should ever need or have to use, "Aunt Nat, I didn't mean to make you sad...I'm really sorry."

Despite the watery eyes, Laura saw Natasha manage to give him the saddest of smiles. "You don't have to be sorry..." she assured him. She watched the young woman ruffle her son's hair. "You could never make me sad," she told him next, "you're one of the best parts of my life, always. I let _you_ down, Coop...and _I'm_ sorry. But you do owe your parents an apology...they were lying for me."

"Are you gonna feel better soon?"

Natasha's smile was a little more real now as she leaned over and kissed his forehead, "You already made me feel a little better."

Her son nodded with a smile before he sheepishly turned and looked back down at them. "I'm sorry..." came the apology his Aunt had told him to give them and Laura half-chuckled. It was ironic that Natasha questioned her maternal side when she had two children and an infant wrapped around her pinky finger right in this very house.

Laura just nodded her head and watched as Cooper took that as apology accepted before he looked back at Natasha.

"You don't gotta be scared, Aunt Nat. Dad showed me how to use the bow, I'll protect you," her son assured the redhead before going back on his way to his room. The instant he was out of sight Laura learned that the smile was _still_ just a facade as it instantly evaporated.

Natasha looked awed and dumbstruck by their son's word, uncertain how to feel or respond to them. Finally she just turned and quietly closed the door behind her again.

"I don't know what to do for her..." Laura finally admitted.

She saw Clint look over at her and he rested his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes. "You were right earlier..." he told her, "I don't think we can make things better this time..."

* * *

Bruce sat silently in the jet. They were minutes away from their return to the Barton farm and he felt himself fidgeting. Forty-five minutes. That was the time between Natasha going into that facility and coming out a wreck. It was also equal to the amount of time he had to think about what could have possibly gone so wrong in forty-five minutes.

He couldn't say he knew Laura all that well but he didn't think she would over-exaggerate circumstances that concerned Natasha. Laura was kind, she was honest, and frankly a little scary with just how wise she truly was. The woman seemed to understand things that most people shouldn't, she understood how twisted and warped the world was despite being hidden away from it.

No, if Laura was saying Natasha was on the brink of losing it then it was most likely accurate.

Bruce watched the Barton farm come into view as the quinjet descended. He was almost afraid of what he would find down there, or rather, he was afraid of whatever had Natasha so worked up.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even realize they had landed until Tony clasped a hand on his shoulder.

"Want us to stay?" his best friend offered up in an unusually calm and non-sardonic tone of voice.

Bruce frowned as he thought about that but he knew Natasha wouldn't appreciate _more_ company. He wasn't even sure she really wanted Bruce himself to be here. It wasn't that he didn't believe she truly loved him, he knew she did, but he also knew that she wasn't having the easiest time admitting it more days than not.

"Yeah...but you can't," Bruce admitted with a sigh.

Tony was frowning but he merely nodded and sat back in his seat. "Bruce, whatever you need—and whatever Nat needs...you know you just have to call," his friend offered up easily.

"I know," Bruce assured him.

Wanda was looking back at him with worry. "I know that you and I are not exactly...friendly," she said softly, "but Natasha _is_ my friend...and I will always come to help her—and you."

Bruce gave the brunette a sad little smile as he stood up and opened the latch to the door of the quinjet. "We're friends, Wanda," he told her without question. He paused before descending down the ramp and looked back at them, "Thanks...both of you."

Tony rolled his eyes, "This is all too straight to television Lifetime Movie for me, I don't like the mushy stuff."

Wanda burst the billionaire's bubble without a second thought and with a neutral expression she must have learned from Natasha, "Liar."

"Don't go pulling that feeling feelings thinga-majig you do, Mini Red," Tony warned her playfully, "totally not cool."

Bruce smiled a little more as he shook his head and left the jet, heading towards the house. He was greeted by Laura's sad smile as she opened the door for him and he saw Clint in the kitchen over her shoulder holding little Nathaniel.

"Is she...in her room?" Bruce finally asked after a moment of heavy silence.

"Yeah," Laura answered solemnly. When he moved to head towards the stairs he was surprised to find Laura's fingertips grasp his wrist firmly. He turned to look at her but her words only made him more worried, "Just...she's upset—she's scared." He wasn't entirely sure what to say, or even what she expected him to say, though she seemed to understand that when she spoke again, "I'm just saying...when she tells you what's going on—you need to remember that."

Which meant that Laura knew whatever it was that Natasha needed to tell him. He wasn't sure if he was hurt or relieved that she told Laura. He was hurt in the fact she felt the need to hide it from him and tell someone else but he was also relieved that she _did_ tell someone else, someone who most likely convinced her to tell him.

Bruce wondered if that was _why_ Natasha went to her and knowing Natasha, it likely was. She needed someone who could push her to go against her nature and Laura _was_ her polar opposite on those terms. Suddenly he understood their friendship more than he ever had before. It was the same with Clint. Yin and Yang. Clint was open, friendly, a little goofy and joking right from the beginning while Natasha was quiet albeit quirky and funny in a deadpan sort of way, deadly, seductive...and frankly a little terrifying even to a man who turned into a giant green rage monster. They were both assassins, spies, and yet not at all alike until you mixed them together. In the same room they just meshed and became eerily similar either in a Natasha way or a Clint way depending on if it was a mission or a social setting.

Although Bruce knew that hiding behind all of that was the Natasha he had come to know more intimately. The one who smiled, laughed and cared about people a lot more than she let on—the one who looked at him like he was the most important thing in her life...and most days he actually believed it when she looked at him like that. The woman displayed her feelings for him more with expression than actual words and though he certainly wouldn't complain about that, he did relish the moments where her words actually matched what she showed him.

He knew the entirety of his thoughts only lasted seconds as he nodded at Laura's words and headed up the stairs, though it felt like he had stood there for ages letting it sink it. Every step he found himself wondering more and more just what it was that had the usually stoic spy so on edge.

Natasha hadn't really been the same since Sri Lanka, not that he was the same after it either, but most of her differences had been more recent rather than directly after the disaster. He supposed everyone reacted to trauma in different ways and at different times but _something_ that she found out with Klein had pushed her off the deep end.

Once he reached the door he gave it a slow push open and glanced inside. Natasha was sitting on the edge of the bed and staring down at the floor. He supposed it was better than when she used to stare at the walls; he knew the meaning behind her wall gazes and they were never good. She wasn't searching for her safety net at the moment which meant she wasn't completely lost in whatever was going on—not yet anyways.

Bruce sighed a little before he shuffled through the door, closed it gently behind him, then eased himself to sit down on the edge of the bed next to her. To be frank, he wasn't entirely sure what to say or even if he _should_ speak first. He opened his mouth to do just that when Natasha merely leaned over, rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He pursed his lips shut in an instant and rested his arm across her shoulders.

"Can we just stay like this for a few minutes?" came the unexpected question from Natasha's lips.

Bruce couldn't deny it was nice despite the fact that he knew they needed to talk about whatever was going on. "Sure," he agreed. He studied her now—the dark circles under her eyes, her one arm wrapped around her stomach, the uneasy resting expression regardless of the fact she _was_ resting.

It was ironic really given Natasha's youth but Bruce had recognized it early on in their meeting, and he knew it was likely due to her becoming a woman without ever learning how to be a little girl—Natasha had an old soul. Hell, half the time she actually reminded him of a woman out of one of those old movies just in her appearance alone. He was still amused when he thought back on her play-acting just before Ultron.

" _He's not so bad. Well, he has a temper. Deep down he's all fluff. Fact is, he's not like anybody I've ever known. All my friends are fighters. Then here comes this guy and he spends his life avoiding the fight because he knows he'll win."_

" _Sounds amazing."_

And of course Natasha just wouldn't be who she was if she didn't tease someone and then think that perhaps she shouldn't have.

" _He's also a huge dork."_

Admittedly he hadn't been offended, he had simply been amused and a little embarrassed by their entire flirtation—she had thought she said something wrong and quickly corrected herself in a way that always made him laugh, a statement she had jokingly told him more than once before.

" _Chicks dig that."_

Bruce still loved that moment between them and he realized he had never actually told her that. So he spoke, just to break the ice, "Remember the bar before Ultron attacked?"

He saw her lips quirk into a slightly sideways smile, another of his favorite things about her. "Of course I do," she told him before she asked the question, "why?"

"It's one of my favorite moments," Bruce informed her nonchalantly.

Natasha's eyes opened and she looked up at him. She looked a little surprised by his admittance but her eyes were soft and unguarded, adoring in a way only Natasha seemed to know how to pull off, then she replied, "Mine too." She released a tiny puff of a sigh from her lips before her next words came out quiet, "Never say never..."

Bruce frowned a little as she sat up and ran her hands over her face.

" _What did he do that was so wrong to you?"_

" _Not a damn thing. But never say never..."_

Did that mean he had done something to upset her?

He waited a moment before he finally dared to ask, "Did I...do something wrong?"

Natasha looked over at him in an instant and she looked almost guilty when she answered him, "No, of course not—you didn't do anything, Bruce." She shook her head a little as she glanced away again. "It's a little annoying really...you never do anything wrong," she admitted before shrugging, "meanwhile all I do is lie and make a mess of everything."

"That's not true," Bruce assured her with a frown. She gave him a knowing look and he relented, "I mean...you do lie a lot but—that's you, Nat...I've always known that." Natasha was silent as she pursed her lips shut and Bruce could have face-palmed. It was the complete wrong thing to say. "I didn't mean it like that," he tried to assure her with a frown.

She released a sad little huff of a laugh and shrugged, "It's fine. I mean it's true..." She glanced up and he saw her looking at her own reflection in the mirror just across the room now. The next words out of her mouth were so sudden that he didn't know quite how to comprehend the severity of them, "I know what was in the nanites."

Bruce stared at her openly, silently, trying to understand. _How_ would she know when they hadn't figured it out yet? He frowned a little before he finally found his voice to ask the question, "What was in them?"

She opened her mouth to answer, closed it, then he could tell she was trying to wrap her head around a way to say whatever it was she needed to say. Finally she looked over at him and she looked guilty again, more guilty than he had ever seen her look before. "Klein said he made them," she told him, "to be a cure for you."

Bruce frowned and narrowed his eyes a little and opened his own mouth now, except Natasha stuck her hand over it and wouldn't allow it.

"Just...let me get it all out before I chicken out here," she told him with a sigh and he relented because he was afraid she might not be kidding. "They had a repair and reconstruct algorithm built in," she explained, "and they had your original DNA in them from your time in the military."

Now he was interested and more than a little confused on the matter because she pulled her hand away from his mouth and rubbed at her face again. He wasn't sure if he was surprised, upset he lost a chance at a cure, or worried by what _his_ DNA might have done to her with that algorithm built in. It was a myriad of thoughts, possibilities, lost chances—all of them had Bruce floundering for _any_ words to respond with.

Natasha took an uneasy breath. "You were right," she told him next, "the nanites did do something to me and we just—we never thought to check for this one."

"For—for what?" Bruce finally dared to ask. What could it possibly be that they hadn't thought of to check yet? They didn't find any signs of diseases. No change in Natasha's enhancements. No change in her health. They found _nothing_.

She glanced down and he watched her. He was at a loss for what to say, for how to make her feel like she didn't need to be worried when he didn't know _what_ had her worried. He never knew Natasha to just blurt out words, but that was exactly what happened now—two words came out quickly and unrehearsed—two words just _blurted_ , "I'm pregnant."

Bruce froze. There was no other word for it. He stared at her unblinking, unmoving, and no words went through his mind let alone out of his mouth. Not a single thought entered or left his head and it was the first moment in his life, at least that he could recall, where he felt well and truly dumbfounded. She stood up and he still couldn't find his voice, his thoughts, he just stared at the spot where she had been sitting.

Natasha's voice broke through the silence of the room and the void in his mind. "I'll give you a little bit to work through that one since I had to do the same for myself," she told him before she made to walk away.

He grabbed her hand on impulse and glanced up at her. She was looking down at him and he _wanted_ to say something, to say anything really. All he had to do was speak. Just say words. _Any_ words at this point would be better than not saying anything. ' _It's alright,'_ or ' _it'll be okay,_ ' maybe even, ' _we can figure it out_ ' but _nothing_ came out.

She didn't look upset that he couldn't seem to speak, in fact, she looked like she understood the concept entirely and he imagined she did. She just gave him a sad little smile. "Told you," she informed him, "I needed time so I know you definitely do."

Bruce let go of her hand and let her go this time. He didn't know what else to do except what she said to do. He needed to think and he looked straight ahead again and listened to the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing.

It wasn't real. It _couldn't_ be real.

Her words in this very room during the Ultron debacle felt like a lifetime ago now and they ran through his head all over again in this moment.

" _They sterilize you. It's efficient. One less thing to worry about, the one thing that might matter more than a mission. It makes everything easier—even killing._ " She had been horrified then, sharing that with him, and it had to be almost like whiplash for her now—it was for him.

It wasn't possible on _either_ of their ends—and then it hit him that he just let her walk out of the room when she had to be just as confused as he was. _Scared_ , Laura had told him. If _he_ was confused, scared, and unsure of what to do then he imagined she had all of the same issues and probably more.

Bruce stood up and moved to the door, opening it back up, and Natasha was standing at the railing of the stairs, fingertips gripping the railing and her posture stiff and rigid. "Nat..." he finally found his voice, though to be frank he didn't recognize it with it's cautious tone.

Natasha turned and looked at him before she sighed, turned fully around, and squeezed around him and back into the room. His brain instantly wondered just how long she would be able to do that for, squeeze through such a tiny space, and he cringed to himself almost immediately as he quietly closed the door. He made it more awkward now because he was staring at her stomach, almost as if—

"It's not just going to magically burst into a giant heaping baby bump ready to pop, Bruce," she informed him with a facial expression that told him she was somewhere between amused, sad, and scared.

He shook his head and tried to get his senses back but now _that_ image was in his head. "I uh—I know that," he replied with a sigh as he sat back down. She took a seat beside him again but he didn't feel like sitting would help. In fact sitting was useless so he stood up again.

"Bruce..."

He paced, though given it was a small space of about eight feet—eight and a half now that he was being exact—either way it wasn't a very effective pacing area. He went back and forth between the window and the door at least four times before he stopped and looked at her, "Pregnant?"

Natasha inclined her head slightly to show that it was _still_ real, it was a _thing_ , and he rubbed his hands over his face before he began his trek back and forth across the room. "I know you haven't completely uh—soaked that in yet," she told him, "but there's something else."

It came out before he could stop it, like verbal diarrhea, and good grief he wanted to turn back time the moment his lips let the words out, "There aren't two, right?"

She blinked. She stared at him and blinked as though she had no idea how to respond to that question.

"I just—" he shook his head and took a breath, "I don't think I could handle two..."

Natasha let out a breathy little chuckle as she shook her head, "I don't—I don't think so." Then he realized she looked a little out of sorts at the thought, "I don't even know what to do with one..."

Bruce couldn't really give her any tips in that area but at least she had a decade of the Barton's under her belt, which was something that she didn't seem to be remembering right now—it was actually a little ironic given that they were on their farm right now. "Me either..."

"She was there," Natasha told him.

He narrowed his eyes a little and stopped in his tracks for his little power walk in circles. He studied Natasha, trying to figure out who she meant, but nothing came immediately to mind after all of the other news. "Who was there?" he finally dared to ask.

"Mada—Stasia." He imagined she had been about to call her Madame B, the title she had grown up using for the woman who _should_ have been her mother. He also imagined it was a hard habit to kick.

That got him to finally sit back down. She had his full and undivided attention. "She was there?" he questioned, "why?"

"Loose ends for Russia as far as I could tell," she answered with a shrug. "I was trapped, I wasn't getting out," she told him next, "and when she saw that I was—" Natasha shook her head, clearly not ready to say that out loud again, "she let me out—then helped me find the kids."

Bruce tried to understand where she was going in her head with that scenario and he felt the need to say it out loud just in case she was going crazy enough to believe otherwise, "That doesn't make up for everything else she's done to you."

"I know that," Natasha told him with a look that showed annoyance. "I'm not an idiot, Bruce. Clint's damned code keeps me from—from being who I used to be, who she made me," she explained, "I wanted to kill her...and I still do but I couldn't just put a knife between her eyes after she saved my life."

He gave her the softest look, raised his hand up to the side of her face and slowly let his fingertips trace their way down. "You have every right to feel that way," he told her.

"How am I supposed to be..." Natasha paused, closed her eyes, then shook her head without finishing whatever question she had been about to ask, "I can't be a mother...I don't know how. I didn't exactly have a shining example growing up...mine was a damned sociopath who trained her own kid to be an assassin."

"What about Laura?" Bruce reminded her, "she's about all the example anyone would need."

Natasha huffed out a sad little laugh, "I can't be Laura. That would require being far too good of a person and—and I'm not that, I'm anything but that."

He put aside his thoughts on everything else at the moment and let his hand rest on her arm. "You're a better person than you think you are," he assured her, "you didn't need a mom growing up to be one now, Nat."

"I'm not a mother. I wasn't meant to be a mother, or a girlfriend, or a wife," she told him with a sigh, "and I'm already trying to figure out how to be one of those things—I don't think I can be two of them."

Bruce moved his hand over top of hers and gave it a squeeze. It was quiet again as he tried to comprehend everything and they sat in silence, companionable silence, but silence nonetheless.

"Think about it logically..." Natasha told him after a few minutes, "we were already in danger just being together...people already tried to use us against each other." He watched her now but he knew where she was going with her statement before she even finished it, "Everyone will want this baby—either as an experiment or to use against us."

She was right in the most horrifying way and _now_ he knew why Laura said Natasha was scared. And she wasn't just scared, he could see it. She was terrified. He found his eyes drifting to her stomach and he just stared. Words were lost _again_ to him and he couldn't remember ever being speechless so many times at once during his life as he was during this conversation.

"I know you don't want this," she stated next. He was more than a little mortified that she would think that, not that he knew what he really thought right now, but her assumption was more than a little hurtful. "I am _tired_ of not having a choice in what happens to me and what I do," she admitted, "what happens now is _my_ choice—because I have one."

Bruce frowned as he looked at her, "What choice is that?"

"Run. As far as I can..."

"Natasha..."

The tears were there now, one fell, then another—and another. It was a free-flow of tears and it was hard to breathe just _seeing_ it. "It's my child..." she whispered, "no one's taking this from me again."

Bruce swallowed drying before he placed his hands on either side of her face and pressed his forehead against hers. "Us," he told her without deciding how he even felt. "If this is...real, then it's _our_ child," he reminded her.

"What happened to 'not exactly child-friendly'?" came the unexpected response.

He pulled away and stared at her. She didn't look like she meant for it to be hurtful, though _now_ he understood her sudden need to run here, to run away from him and _not_ say anything about this. "That—Natasha if I knew that damned conversation actually had to do with what was going on with you then I would have _never_ said that," he told her with frustration marring his voice.

"Not out loud," she pointed out. Bruce couldn't deny her claim. Even if he hadn't said it out loud he would still be thinking it. He still _was_ thinking about it.

"You're right, is that what you want to hear?" he questioned, "it is what I think but _you_ asked me once to believe that even if I didn't trust him to trust that _you_ did."

Natasha looked more than a little surprised.

"You trust him and—and I trust you."

She looked like she wanted to speak but her lips opened and then smacked closed before she nodded her head. Finally after a minute she found her voice again, "And you would run with me if I asked you to..."

"As far as you wanted, anywhere you wanted" Bruce assured her, "and for as long as you wanted."

Natasha leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Soft, pliant—as per the usual her kiss left nothing and yet everything to be desired. He wasn't sure how she managed to do both of those at the same time. The kiss was only seconds long, but the words she breathed against his lips made him float on air, "I do love you..."

"I know you do..." Bruce told her, "and you never need to say it—I know it's not something you're comfortable saying and I appreciate that you're saying it anyways...but you don't need to."

She gave him the saddest little smile, "And that's _why_ I love you."

Now he just needed to figure out his thoughts on this whole thing, especially given the fact he promised her that if she ran then he would go with her. He just couldn't sense of any of the thoughts going through his head, not when she was so hauntingly scared. For both their sakes though, Bruce knew he was going to have to find a way to wrap his head around it all.

* * *

 **Alright. I made it extra long to apologize for my absence. Hopefully our favorite couple can figure out their next move. This isn't originally the direction the story was supposed to go but after this long I've changed the game plan. I'm sure you all can appreciate that since the original version didn't have a Bruce/Natasha baby chat planned for this early on.**

 **See you guys soon.**


	6. Chapter 6

I really do appreciate just how amazing all of you are so I think I've come up with the best story here that I can possibly give you. Admittedly I've completely scrapped the original plan and made a brand new one that I am far too excited about. Anyways, back to your feature presentation which was technically two separate chapters...but since all of you rock I combined them into another giant one and used both quotes :)

 **Chapter 5** :

" _The truth about the truth is that it hurts,  
and that is why we lie;_

 _And a broken promise is better than none at all."_

Natasha laid there in the bed for what felt like ages. She tended not to go creeping through the house in the middle of the night while everyone was asleep, not that she would wake anyone if she did but it was merely the principle of the matter. In the tower it was different, you had entire floors that nobody would be on, nobody to _possibly_ disturb even if your footsteps weren't more silent than somebody who was standing completely still. Even at the new facility there wasn't much to worry about. There was always somewhere to go, somewhere to hide with your own thoughts—and somewhere to drink a really large bottle of vodka.

She couldn't even do the latter of those options which was equally as frustrating.

Cooing noises were coming from two bedrooms down and she knew that meant she had company in the middle of the night. The littlest of the Barton's had a tendency to do that even at almost a year old, though Clint and Laura insisted it didn't happen if Natasha herself wasn't there.

She had a ritual with the infant. He would make little noises on and off until she would surrender and go to him. As per the norm she relented fairly easily and extracted herself from her position laying with Bruce. She would give the man props because for someone so jumpy he sure did sleep like the dead. It was impressive.

Natasha crept two doors down before she eased open the one to Nathaniel's. There was the pudgy little baby, standing and giving her a two-tooth gummy grin before he raised his hands up in his classic 'up' signal. She shook her head a little and gave a sighing chuckle before moving over to the crib and pulling him out.

As per usual the strange little child was delighted when she sat down in Laura's rocker and held him so that he was standing on her legs and facing her. He was cute, that much she would admit, but he was also gross at the same time—as she noted by the drool. He let out non-intelligible babble, wiggled his hands at her, then leaned forward until she pulled him in for the hug he wanted.

She hugged the happy baby who seemed content to rest with his cheek on her shoulder and she felt immediately terrible for not having done so when she first came over. It wasn't as though the kid asked for much from her, not that he _could_ ask. All he wanted out of her was hugs and games of peek-a-boo.

Natasha could handle that small amount. It was the rest of it she wasn't so sure about. Crying. Puking. Diapers. Having to watch 24/7 to make sure the kid doesn't choke on a small object or a disintegrating puff snack, it was all too much to be responsible for.

"What am I supposed to do with something like you on a daily basis?" she questioned softly.

"Maybe not call him a 'something' would be a good start..."

She glanced up at Clint in the now-open doorway. He didn't look offended by her wording, he just looked amused, albeit very sleepily amused. He silently closed the door and she watched him take the not quite so comfy seat beside her in the room.

"So Bruce is still here," Clint pointed out to her with a yawn at the end.

Natasha gave him a tiny smile, "He is."

"Hey, if a magical nanite baby doesn't scare him off then nothing will," her partner informed her nonchalantly.

It shouldn't have been funny, it really shouldn't, and yet she snickered in response to his joke anyways. It was something only Clint could do, amuse her in the face of something that she couldn't find humor in. "You're an ass," she reminded him.

"I know," Clint answered with a shrug. "You seem a little better than you did earlier," her friend told her her.

"I'm not," Natasha informed him as she shifted the infant from her shoulder to an arm cradle. Nathaniel had no qualms as he yawned, stretched, and stared up at her. "Neither is Bruce," she tacked on before she sighed.

"Nat..." Clint just looked worried and it was an expression she was seeing far too often from far too many people. "You have a lot of people who will help you," he reminded her and she knew it was true. "What safer place could you be than with a group of superheroes?" he questioned.

It was a good question but it didn't change the past. "Last time I was in trouble it nearly got the entire team killed," she pointed out.

"Last time you didn't tell them until it was too late," Clint retorted with a pointed look.

Natasha stared down at Nathaniel as he yawned and snuggled closer, eyes drooping closed. "You're right," she admitted, "but it's already too late."

"It's not—"

"I wasn't the only one there when that computer screen said I was pregnant, Clint," she told him, "it's already too late."

Her partner sat back after that and sighed.

"Even if nobody else was there, it's been four months—it's not as though this is something that stays hidden for much longer," Natasha reminded him, wiggling the baby in her arms as he snored softly.

Clint inclined his head a little, not disagreeing with her last statement. His words however made her want to smack him, "Honestly for four months along, you don't look it."

She narrowed her eyes and she could see him squirm.

"I'm just saying, Laura popped at least a little bit three months in," Clint told her with a defensive shrug. Then he gave her a scrutinizing look before he just looked uncomfortable. "That's gonna be a weird look for you. You're gonna get fat, Nat."

Natasha took a deep breath before she responded, "Barton I swear if I wasn't holding your child—"

He snorted out a laugh in an instant and it forced the smile out of her.

It only lasted so long before all her worries resurfaced after just a few minutes of finally forgetting them. She bit down on her lower lip for a moment, staring down at the sleeping baby before she spoke again, "Bruce said that he would run with me." She sighed as she stood up and paced the room, bouncing Nathaniel lightly as she did so, "Nothing I do ever seems to drive him away. He would follow me to hell and back and I don't understand why..."

"He loves you," Clint stated matter-of-factly, as though that were enough to explain it all. Maybe it was enough and maybe she just didn't understand it all yet. "He left once and despite that he gave you a reason to fall in love with him. And you gave him one to fall in love with you despite the fact you also gave him quite a few reasons not to," he reminded her.

He stood up and held his hands out for his son. Natasha had to admit she was a little hesitant to let the child go, it was cathartic to hold him, but she relented and put him in his father's arms. "It's stupid," she told him as Clint headed back to the crib to put Nathaniel to bed again.

Clint tucked his son in before he turned and shook his head at her in minor amusement. "Love is stupid. It makes people do stupid things. It makes someone like Laura choose to live a life in the middle of nowhere with a guy she's way too good for," her partner told her. He clamped his hands over both of her shoulders as he dug the truth in, "it's what makes you break down and feel like you won't survive when you think they're gone."

Natasha swallowed dryly. She knew what he was referring to. She knew he was referring to her own break down four months prior when she thought Bruce was dead.

"It's not a weakness, Nat," Clint assured her, "it makes you stronger." He headed out into the hallway and she followed after him so that their quiet conversation wouldn't disrupt the sleeping child. "Besides...I'm honestly terrified for the person who decides to mess with you as a mother," he told her, "because you're already pretty damned scary."

It was weird to hear herself being linked with the word 'mother' so many times in a few hours. All of this was weird.

"Go to bed, Nat. Turn your brain off for a few hours and get some sleep," Clint told her as he headed back towards his own bedroom. "You're not gonna figure anything out if you're exhausted," he reminded her before he disappeared behind the door.

Natasha wished it was that easy and she sighed before she went back to her own room. Bruce was laying there, eyes open and staring up at the ceiling.

He didn't seem to notice her entry back into the room at first but then he spoke quietly to prove that thought wrong, "Can't sleep?"

"No..." she answered, slipping back inside and shutting the door just as quietly.

"I was pretending when you wandered off," Bruce informed her.

She had to admit that she was impressed. She hadn't noticed and Bruce wasn't exactly the most subtle of people most days. "I can't decide if you're getting better or if I'm slipping," she told him as she got back into the bed.

He seemed to be reversing their usual positions as he stretched an arm out and Natasha smiled a little before she laid down on her side, resting her head between his chin and his chest. _Thump, thump, thump._ It was steady and calming—and it eased the weariness in her soul in a way she was eternally grateful for.

"I don't know what to do..." she finally admitted.

Bruce was quiet in response to her words. She supposed it was because he didn't know either. Instead he tucked his arm over her waist and said the only thing that he knew she would probably believe, "We'll figure it out."

Natasha closed her eyes and continued to listen.

 _Thump, thump, thump_.

It was rhythmic. His heartbeat had become as much a lullaby for her just as her voice had become one for him and his other half.

* * *

When Natasha awoke she was alone, something which was more than a little troubling because she'd never slept through Bruce getting up, her mind could just never comprehend how to do so when she had been so accustomed to waking at the drop of a pin.

Everything was quiet; eerily so. No voices. No creaks in the hallway floors. Absolutely nothing. But the smell was there. A familiar smell; metallic and sweet, and one that she knew all too well.

She glanced out the open door and saw the crimson spatter on the floor, but it wasn't just the floor. The entire house was painted with it. The hallway. The staircase. Every single bedroom. Each one smothered in red.

And yet there wasn't a single person anywhere.

The sudden wailing and crying from the baby's room had her going inside instantly. Blood painted that room too and she peered over into the crib apprehensively.

But there was no crying baby.

Natasha just felt—empty, as empty as the crib she was staring into now. She pressed her hands to her stomach but even that couldn't soothe and fill the void.

Except she heard the crying again and turned.

Or she tried to turn.

She couldn't move because she wasn't standing any longer. She was strapped down, trapped.

"Natasha..." Bruce's voice was so quiet and Natasha looked all around trying to find him.

She didn't see anyone sans for Stasia coming towards her, scalpel in hand and it gleamed as the woman looked at it adoringly.

"You really shouldn't have let me go," Stasia told her, "but don't you worry, I'll take care of your child just as I took care of you."

Natasha could feel the panic settling, her breathing becoming quick and heavy as she struggled. "No!" she growled out as the scalpel came towards her abdomen, "no, no, no!"

She felt the slice just as she tried to jolt herself out of the restraints to get free.

"Natasha!"

She stared up at Bruce the second her eyes snapped open; Bruce, who was the reason she currently couldn't move. He had her shoulders pinned to the bed as she took shallow and quick breaths.

"It's okay," he told her quickly, "you need to stop, you need to calm down..."

She wasn't sure what Bruce wanted her to stop doing before she realized she was still fighting to get up. Now she stopped just as he requested, sinking back into the bed as Bruce released his firm hold on her with a relieved look.

Natasha took a shaky breath before she turned on her side away from him and curled up as small as she could.

In seconds she saw Bruce crouch down beside the bed and he looked her in the eye. "Natasha...it was just a _really_ bad dream," he tried to assure her. "Talk to me," he requested, "tell me what happened."

For once she answered him without hesitation. "This whole house was painted with blood," she told him as she closed her eyes. "And then—then she was cutting me open," she explained with a shaky voice, "she wanted...she—" And considering Bruce didn't question who 'she' was, he likely understood. "I can't do this..." she mumbled.

She felt him crawl into the bed, into the smallest of spaces just in front of her, and when she opened her eyes he was at eye level with her. "Nobody's going to do that to you and nobody is going to take this from you, Natasha," he told her once she was looking at him, "I swear I wouldn't hesitate to kill whoever tried and I wouldn't even need to change a shade to do it."

Natasha believed him and it was a little terrifying in the way she felt relieved.

"You can do this," Bruce told her, " _we_ can do this."

"Not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do here because I really do..." Natasha assured him and she felt like it absolutely had to be said before she gave him a reminder, "but I can't keep letting you make promises like that when you don't even know how you actually feel about this yet..." Natasha reminded him.

Bruce sighed before he responded to her, "However I feel about it isn't going to change my decision."

She raised her hand to rest against the side of his face before she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his briefly. When she moved back she gave him a solemn little smile before she told him the truth, "And I believe you...but it will change mine." She rolled to the other side of the bed and then got to her feet despite the fact her legs felt like jelly still after that nightmare. "I'm going to call Tony for a ride back," she informed him, mostly because she didn't want to hurt him with her answer but also because she knew that she likely had; and she really didn't want to see it on his face, "I need to figure out what to do and I can't do that here after that..."

Bruce sat up with a frown. "What do you mean that how I feel would change your decision?" came his next question.

Natasha shook her head a little as she shrugged and opened the door. As much as she really didn't want to say it, she let the words escape anyways because he at least deserved to know why his feelings would effect her decision, "You and I both know what it's like to be raised but not wanted."

When she finally dared to glance back at Bruce she could see the slight horror on his face at what she inferred. The self loathing she felt in that moment was almost mind-numbing because she certainly didn't mean for him to take her comment the way he seemed to and it took all of her self-control not to go back to where he was still sitting.

"I'm not saying that because I think you would or could ever do anything even remotely like what was done to either of us. I know that you never could because you are ridiculously too kindhearted for your own good...but I think we also both know that staying out of obligation alone wouldn't be fair to anyone."

There was relief mixed with far too many other emotions on Bruce's face for her to even remotely decipher all of them, though within it all she could see the pain lingering the most.

The truth of the matter was, Natasha didn't even know she felt the way she did until the words left her lips, "Bruce, if this becomes a choice between you..." She frowned but she really couldn't look him in the eye now, "If that's what it comes to then it won't be a choice..."

"Nat..."

"It won't change how I feel about you," she assured him after hearing his voice that distressed. She glanced up and saw the heart-wrenchingly miserable look on his face, the one filled with pain, heartache and grief. She had never felt more guilty in her entire life than she had in this very moment here and now. "Nothing will change that," she promised him softly, "not even if we have to go our separate ways."

She closed the door between them because she couldn't handle it any longer. She closed it because she needed to remember how to breathe after realizing there was a legitimate chance it could almost be over.

And the pain of that revelation was far too overwhelming.

* * *

Bruce was more than a little mortified by Natasha's words, not because she _was_ right about the possibility he might not want this but because he didn't actually know if she was right or wrong. It wasn't to say that she seemed to know how she felt herself but at least she seemed to have come to a decision about what she wanted and would do despite that—which might or might not include his presence. That was devastating even though he understood why she had said it.

He could still see the slight shadow under the doorway that gave away that she was still on the other side. He knew it was because she was putting herself back together before she joined the family downstairs and if he could have figured out what to say then he would have gone after her in a heartbeat. The truth of the matter was; he had absolutely no idea how to respond to any of it. He counted a good sixty-seven seconds before that shadow disappeared without so much as a creak in the hallway from her steps.

Natasha was acting like a mother even if she didn't realize she was doing it. She _did_ want this even though she was uncertain of the circumstances in which it happened and he knew it for a fact after less than half of that conversation. He wished that his mind, just as hers seemed to be doing, would come to some verbal decision about his feelings even when he didn't know what the hell they were himself.

He rubbed at his face in an attempt to figure out all the turmoil building up within him as the Other Guy practically growled in the back of his head. It was hard to decide if his other half was just annoyed at the internal struggle or if he was angry at Bruce's indecisiveness. "You don't get to be pissed when you're the reason I can't figure this out..." he grumbled out loud.

The Hulk didn't seem all too fond of actually being spoken to only to be blamed for the situation, especially if his immediate grumbling was any indication. He supposed the Other Guy wasn't the only one to blame for his inability to make a decision. Bruce had to admit that even before the accident he had never really had an interest in being a father due to his own father—hell, afterwards it was never something he would have had to worry about even if he _could_ have had a more physical relationship—he had irradiated any chance of it even being a possibility.

Yet here he was; pondering his impossible baby growing inside of Natasha who couldn't possibly bear a child.

Bruce was positive he hadn't been left alone with his own thoughts for anything more than ten minutes when the door opened rather suddenly and Natasha's voice intruded, reeking of urgency, "Bruce."

And he actually jumped a little at the unexpected interruption of his thoughts.

"Tony was already on his way back, he'll be here a lot sooner than later," she explained, "something's wrong."

Bruce took a steadying breath as he looked over at her. "What could possibly have gone wrong now?" he dared to ask, although to be honest he was afraid to find out. He wasn't sure how much more of a pile-up he could deal with when it already seemed like a train wreck.

"When he went to drop Wanda off at the Avenger's facility last night nobody was there," she informed him.

Bruce could only give her a confused look. "They went to Russia first," he reminded her.

"I'm aware," Natasha told him with a roll of her eyes before she sat back down on the bed. "Wanda said they still never came back this morning," she tacked on, "and they aren't answering."

"What about a location on the jet?" Bruce dared to ask. _Now_ he understood why she said something was wrong.

Natasha sighed before she answered, "GPS has it in Palau. It's—"

"Islands...hundreds of islands," he mumbled as he let himself fall back onto the bed. "I'm getting really tired of islands, especially after the last one," he mentioned. He glanced over at her with his brow wrinkled and he could tell her feelings on that were mutually distasteful. In hindsight he really wished he'd phrased what he said next in a different way, but the three worst possible words were already out before he had thought better of them, "You can't go."

"And exactly why not?" came her immediate response, a response that was definitely more than a little hostile given the rather irritated look in her eyes.

Once again she managed to bring out his frustrations, something she was astoundingly good at, and he couldn't help the rather exasperated reply he had in return, "What exactly is it about a fight that even now you just can't turn away from?"

"So...what? We're finally going to have that argument we should have had after I pushed you in Sokovia?" she questioned with a sad and disbelieving huff along with a shake of her head, "or are you just looking for an excuse, an out?"

It was offensive and it left him irritatingly bitter—which meant it also drew out a response of his own that he wasn't at all proud of, "Or maybe you're just so afraid that's what I'm doing that instead you're just going to push me out yourself because that way it was _your_ choice."

There was no denial although she did look a more than a little regretful after his retort. Even with that regret however, Natasha just stared at him like she expected him to take the out that she had offered in that argument, or rather, the out she had offered in the form of an argument. The sole fact she seemed to think he might do it was almost crippling and he felt terrible.

Bruce would never deny that he loved her but he also couldn't deny that doing so was mind-blowingly exhausting sometimes, so instead he threw in the towel first. "That's not how I meant for any of that to come out..." he admitted as he twisted the blankets in his fists and took a few more steadying breaths, "but jumping into a new fight is the last thing that you should be doing right now."

"So I'm supposed to just sit out and hope for the best?" she asked him and _now_ he understood. She sounded lost and he supposed she was in some sense of the word.

"It's not just you anymore..." Bruce reminded her softly, "you said yourself that you're afraid someone wants to take this from you and I can't lie to you and say you're wrong for that fear because—because you're not..."

Natasha took her own steadying breath now and he watched her hand shift to her stomach again. She looked a little unnerved by the fact that she had put the thought of needing to protect _more_ than just herself aside for a few minutes when she'd been worried about friends instead, not that he could really fault her for it when she'd only had a day to acclimate herself to her entire world flipping upside down and inside out.

He placed his hand over hers where it was resting over her stomach before he spoke again, "The timing for Steve and the others to go missing is a little too coincidental and you know that I'm right..."

She didn't disagree, in fact she made things easier for the first time ever when she threw in her own towel as well, "I'll stay here...at least for now."

He knew he had to get her mind off of the fact that she was stuck out of the fight so he said the only other thing to come to mind, "We're not very good at bickering."

Natasha snorted in a very unladylike manner before she gave him that endearing sideways smile, "Sure we are—we just aren't very good at the part where we keep fighting for more than two minutes so we never manage to resolve anything."

Bruce chuckled but he inclined his head in agreement. "We're gonna be having this same fight about _not_ joining fights for the next five years at the going rate..." he added.

The amusement slowly faded from her eyes and he watched as Natasha looked more than a little doubtful over his words. "Are we though?" she asked him softly.

The immediate answer died on his lips when Tony's voice disrupted them from the doorway before he could actually get the words out, "Hey lovebirds, ready for a Red, White and Blue version of Where's Waldo? Well...and Waldo's little minion brigade."

Bruce sighed as Natasha stood, then silently skirted around Tony and out the door without a word.

"I take it I interrupted an important conversation," Tony mentioned as he stepped inside the room.

He blew out a breath and didn't disagree, but he also didn't fault the billionaire for it, "Yeah...not an entirely comfortable one either."

Tony quirked a curious eyebrow up at him before he made a joke, "Is Red trying to get you to put on a white dress to make an honest woman out of you?" At Bruce's silence Tony merely shrugged. He seemed to take the former answer as all he was going to get regarding it and gave his reply to that instead, "Alrighty, well...I guess you're welcome for the interruption then."

"We can go, I just—I have to talk to Natasha first," Bruce finally stated, "I can't really leave that conversation unfinished..."

"She's not coming?"

He shook his head, "Not this time."

Now Tony looked more alarmed than confused as he asked his next question, "What exactly happened to her in that lab?"

"I'll explain on the way..." he assured his friend, "probably a conversation best had when you're sitting down anyways."

Tony looked a little befuddled by the answer but then he just shrugged and replied, "Then I hope your comfortable explaining it with Wanda in tow. She's downstairs."

"I'd feel better if Wanda stayed here," Bruce admitted.

It wasn't where he planned to finish that statement but Tony interrupted his sentence before he could finish it, "Look I get that you and Little Red aren't exactly tight but you were friendly enough when we dropped you off here. Hell, you even smacked her with the olive branch of friendship yourself so I think you can handle one mission."

Bruce sighed, "That's not the reason, Tony. It's just..." He tried to think of a valid reason to give without just flat out blurting the baby bomb. "I have that sinking feeling Natasha isn't going to stay here long and at least if Wanda stays with her then she's hell of a lot safer..." he finally stated wearily.

The billionaire had an uneasy look on his face and Bruce supposed it was because in some way Tony understood that the danger wasn't over. "So whatever is going on...you think she'll just take off and leave without you?" he questioned.

"She will if I don't have the right answers..." Bruce informed him and it was downright painful just to admit out loud that once again he and Natasha were treading a very thin line in their relationship.

Tony didn't look at all relieved by the answer when he merely gave in and nodded, "I still don't like it but fine. You get to tell Wanda you don't want her to come though because she's not gonna like it and she's already not a big fan of me."

Bruce couldn't blame her if she wasn't happy with his request but he knew he she wouldn't disagree if he told her the truth. He gave that very same thought as a verbal response to Tony's comment as he was heading out the bedroom door, "I know...but she'll understand."

"Least that'll make one of us then," he heard his best friend mutter.

Bruce made his way down the stairs and he paused at the bottom for a moment as Natasha stood in the living room with baby Nathaniel on her hip. She had one of those rare and adoring little smiles as he giggled at Wanda. The younger woman was currently babbling about how cute the child was while poking the him in the nose ever so slightly.

It was an immediate and unbidden thought, one that he couldn't control or stop. It was the thought of just how she would look when that child was her _own_ child. If he thought the face she wore now was the softest expression he had ever seen on her then he couldn't fathom what it might look like soon enough—and if he was sure about one single thing involving all of this it was that he unquestionably wanted to be there to see it.

"You gonna stare at your girlfriend all day or get off the stairs?" he heard Tony question behind him, "you're roadblocking me here, buddy."

Bruce cleared his throat uncomfortably when he saw Natasha was actually looking back at him now. He stepped off the stairs to let Tony off of them as well and of course she seemed to be able to read the situation in a way that only Natasha ever could. She passed the babbling baby back to her partner before she headed in their direction.

He watched Tony glance between them before the billionaire rolled his eyes thirty seconds into them all standing together. "The two of you are making me feel like even more of an awkward third wheel than that time I drunkenly jumped into bed with you," he mumbled.

Bruce wasn't all too surprised when Natasha returned fire with an equally witty comeback. Her and Tony could go back and forth for hours and entertain him the entire time. "Funny, I just said the same thing about the two of you the other morning," she deadpanned.

His best friend was wearing that shit-eating grin now, "I knew you talked about me in bed. Admit it, Red...you desperately want me in it again."

Natasha's eye roll was fairly exaggerated given that Bruce knew she actually enjoyed her banter with Tony even despite the outward signs she gave to show otherwise. Of course Bruce also knew that Tony wasn't fooled by it either. Finally she gave his best friend a pointed look before she gave her next comment in a rather indifferent tone, "Well unless you two are planning on kissing each other before you go then there are one too many people standing right here. I'm only kissing one of you so if you two want to duke it out amongst yourselves which of one of you that's going to be—"

Bruce nearly laughed out loud when the billionaire puckered up his lips at her.

Natasha actually chuckled before she leaned forward towards Tony like she just might actually do it. Bruce could see slight look of horror on his friend's face when she got too close for comfort—then she simply placed her hand on the man's chest and instead gave him a playfully rough shove backwards, "Get the hell out of here, Tony."

"Fine, fine," and the billionaire waved them off jokingly even though the relief was obvious in his voice, "the smell of what I assume is Baby Barton's diaper ruined the mood anyhow." He tapped his lips before he joined the gathering in the living room, "Just remember that you had a chance to test the magic, Romanoff."

Bruce heard the Barton kids giggling at Tony's antics and he shook his head in amusement, especially given that Natasha was clearly fighting to outwardly show just how humorous she found it. She gave a small laugh rather than the contagiously amazing one he had heard from her on several occasions—including earlier.

"Natasha..."

The smile she wore from Tony actually making her laugh became a smaller and more intimate curve of the lips as she looked at Bruce himself now. "Come on," she ordered as she inclined her head towards the front door.

Bruce followed her onto the front porch and he watched as she sat down on the top step. He sat down right beside her, hardly any space between them, then placed his hand on the side of her face. "I am coming back..." he assured her, "I'm not taking the out and whatever you decide after that, wherever you go—that's where I want to be."

"Bruce..."

He shook his head before he shrugged and moved his hand from her face to his lap, "That's all I know right now when it comes to all this...but I'll figure the rest out."

Her smile was back which he assumed meant that despite not giving an answer on his feelings on the subject it _was_ a good answer. "I wasn't saying you needed to figure this out in a day," she promised him.

Bruce chuckled as he glanced down at his fidgeting fingers, "But I'm guessing sometime in the next five months is probably suggested..."

Natasha's hand came to rest over top of his and he met her gaze once more. "That would probably be wise..." she agreed with a bemused little smile, "and I wasn't trying to hurt you with what I said earlier—"

"I know you weren't," Bruce assured her. "You told me once right in this house that even when you were mad you would always come back..." he reminded her.

"I remember..."

"So will I," he told her, trying to dispel any fear she currently had that he might just turn tail and run over this. She didn't look all too convinced and he tried again, "Natasha..."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips ever-so-gently to his own before she pulled away and searched his eyes with her own. "My reaction wasn't because I didn't believe you the first time," she admitted, "it was because I don't know if I can keep m—"

Bruce cut her off by kissing her one more time. He understood now that it wasn't that she wasn't convinced by his promise, it was that she wasn't convinced that she could keep her own now from just four months ago, not unless Bruce could give her the reason she needed to keep it. "It's okay..." he affirmed, "I'm not holding you to your end of that unless I know know for sure..."

He dug the little blue velvet box out of his pocket, one that Natasha clearly seemed to recognize from over a year ago. This time the look on her face was near impossible to read and he chuckled at the way her eyes were glued to it.

"It's still not what you think it is," he told her with a smile.

"So there's not a ring in that box?"

It was the exact same question she had asked the first time and Bruce couldn't help but to respond with his own same answer, "Well, maybe it is exactly what you think it is."

Natasha looked at least mildly amused by it if anything and he took that as a plus. Last time she had seen the box she had looked almost horrified so this reaction was most certainly a step up. "You know I can't take that," she finally stated.

"I'm not giving it to you for the reason you think I am," he replied as he fiddled with the box. "I've been trying to figure out a good way to actually give this to you for a little while now," he admitted with a sigh before he gave a small shrug, "but I've just been afraid you would look at me with that same face you did the first time."

"Bruce..."

He opened up the box and watched as her expression became one more akin to curiosity when he pulled out a sleek and delicate looking gold chain. He took her hand and put it palm up before he lowered the chain into her awaiting hand, then he closed her fingers around it.

Natasha was studying him intensely for a moment before she uncurled her fingers and used her other hand to slowly lift the chain into the air. She looked a little in awe as she got to the end before she looked at him rather quizzically.

"I guess I should have said that it _used_ to be exactly what you thought it was," Bruce admitted with a sheepish smile. "It's the same but...different," he told her as he looked back at it. It was true enough. The gold band had been reformed into a tiny little infinity symbol with the small diamond right in the center where it overlapped. "Now it's not a vow, or at least not in _that_ sense of the word," he explained while she was holding the gift with a look of absolute marvel and fondness, "it's a symbol, a promise...because I'll _always_ come back to you."

Now she was looking at him again with that same face, full of wonder and adoration, yet the pain was lurking somewhere behind it all. She glanced back at the chain and ran a fingertip over the symbol so gently that Bruce almost wasn't sure if she was actually touching it or hovering over it. Suddenly she just looked sad and he realized what it was that had Natasha so unusually emotional, it also explained why. He didn't know why it didn't hit him earlier but he supposed it was because reality was only just now catching up to him.

She was pregnant and she couldn't control her swing from one emotional state to another, not with all of the insanity of their lives coming into play in a ridiculous combination—the child growing within her definitely being included at the top of that list. She didn't stop him when his hand pressed lightly to her stomach of its own volition and he wished he could figure out how he felt right at this exact moment but it still didn't help his uncertainty.

When Bruce slowly pulled his hand away he met her eyes again. Natasha hadn't spoken anything save for his name in several minutes until now and her voice came out soft, "I—I really don't think I should take this..."

"Please," Bruce requested before he told her just how deep his feelings truly ran regarding it, "you don't have to wear it but I at least want you to take it. That ring had lost all the meaning behind what it was supposed to stand for a long time ago...but at least now like this, with you, it can actually mean something again." She opened her mouth to speak and, he assumed to try and deny it again, but he didn't let her, "No matter what happens or what you decide happens between us...it was always meant for you."

Natasha eased her fingertips around the necklace once more and she took the box as he handed that to her as well. It was actually a relief to have her accept it and he felt like he could breathe just a little easier for the first time since he woke up to her nightmare that morning. It was a moment later when she unclasped the chain and held it out to him, turning to the side and shifting her hair out of the way.

He couldn't help but smile as he clasped the necklace at the base of her bared neck. She didn't turn her whole body towards him, merely her head, and he could see her giving in to that fact that they had wasted too much time out here. She gave a small sigh and a sad little smile before she raised her hand to the side of his face, gave him a brief kiss, then stood. "I'll let them know you're ready..." she told him, "and I'll see you when you get back."

Bruce released a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding in after she disappeared back inside. He didn't even get a chance to think over any of what transpired when the door reopened just as quickly and Lila came bounding out with Cooper shuffling out behind her.

"Next time you gotta stay longer, Uncle Bruce, we never got to see you," the little girl told him. He didn't quite know what to do when she hugged him, in fact it took him a good thirty seconds before he remembered he was supposed return the unexpected show of affection. "You'll color with me when you're back, right?" she questioned.

"Sure..." he agreed. It wasn't as though he had it in his heart to say no, not when she was staring at him with big and adorable brown eyes absolutely brimming with hope. It was no wonder Natasha had never stood a chance of not caring for the Barton family if his kids continuously gave her _that_ look.

Lila let him go and Cooper just sort of shrugged. Bruce had to admit he liked Clint's oldest too—the kid was far too smart for his own good and that was something Bruce understood.

"We can do the bottle rocket again, right?" Cooper questioned.

Bruce didn't even hesitate on that one, "Absolutely." And he couldn't quite resist the question, "Ever make a volcano?"

Now Cooper looked like his interest had spiked immensely, "No...can we?"

"Definitely."

And Cooper was grinning as Bruce received yet another unexpected hug from a Barton kid. "Later, Bruce," was the offered verbal goodbye. Bruce couldn't help but chuckle as the kid headed back inside when Natasha ushered him to do so.

Bruce watched as she smiled at him from the doorway and she inclined her head to the side a little. Her voice sounded mildly amused at the very least when she spoke again, "Well I hope you know that now you have to come back given that you offered coloring, bottle rockets and volcanoes to two kids." _  
_

There was no doubt in his mind that she was right about that.

The redhead held the door open as Tony and Wanda came through.

"Later, Red," his best friend offered up lazily.

"Don't do anything idiotic, Shellhead," was Natasha's reply—though Bruce knew it was more her way of saying she cared and that she didn't want him to get hurt.

Tony of course gave his sentiments in somewhat of the same manner, "Sure, sure. And don't you go wandering off aimlessly all alone and getting assassin-snatched by a mad scientist." He could see the billionaire quirk his eyebrows up as though he'd come to some bountiful idea, "We should shorten that. Don't go getting assnatched."

Natasha snickered before she glanced to Wanda, "Make sure those two don't go getting you maimed due to their genius stupidity."

And Wanda just smiled, "Yes, ma'am."

Bruce watched as Natasha met his eyes one more time before she disappeared back inside again. Tony passed him by first on the steps but Bruce waited until Wanda was going by. "Wanda..." and she paused next to him when he said her name. He really hoped she could sense the importance in what he was about to ask of her in that moment, "I need you to stay with her..."

Wanda's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him and he could tell she had picked up on the significance of his request regardless of not quite understanding it. He could see the question in her eyes and he could tell she needed to know _why_ he would ask her to stay behind when her team mates might be in trouble.

And Bruce knew Natasha probably wouldn't be too thrilled with the fact he gave her the honest reason. "She's pregnant and if she leaves—" he paused to take a breath, to stay calm, then he continued, "if she leaves then she could be in danger, she could become an instant target..."

Wanda was no longer giving him that look of uncertainty from a few moments ago. Now instead she was looking at him with slightly widened eyes. "Pregnant?" she dared to repeat and he shushed her quickly. Fortunately Tony seemed to be waiting in all his oblivious glory by the jet and he gave a relieved sigh at that.

"Wanda, please," he requested softly, "I need you to keep her safe."

Apparently she decided it was an important enough reason to stay behind, likely given that she knew Natasha's bad habit of trying to run and handle things herself. "Okay..." she finally agreed aloud and the relief he felt was immediate. "I won't let anything happen to her," she pledged quietly.

Bruce had never been more grateful in his life and he gently grasped her wrist when she turned to go inside, "Wanda..."

She just gave him an honest smile. "You're welcome," she offered up before he could even verbalize how grateful he was.

His best friend had his arms folded as Bruce made his way to him and he could see the not-so-thrilled expression on his face. "You know, I still really would have preferred the telekinetically enhanced, energy throwing, mind-screwer-upper _with_ us in case something crazy goes down," he stated before climbing into the jet.

Bruce followed him in and took the co-pilot's seat as his own. He _really_ wasn't looking forward to having to explain this to Tony.

Of course that was exactly what Tony wanted from him given his next comment, "Well this is one long flight so you've got about twenty hours to give me one hell of an explanation for what exactly it is that Wanda needs to keep Natasha safe from so bad."

He was quiet in response to that for several minutes. He didn't need twenty hours, hell, two words of 'Natasha's pregnant' would probably suffice to shut Tony up but he didn't just want to spout it out like he had with Wanda. With her it had been necessary to do it given the limited time he had but like Tony said—this time he had almost an entire day to explain.

"Bruce."

He glanced over now and he almost didn't realize that he had sat there debating the right way to go about the chat for at least the last ten minutes.

"Fine," Tony decided with obvious annoyance, "the way I see it we can spend this flight one of two ways. One: you can sit there all sad, worried and depressed by all the extremely screwed up thoughts running rampant in your head and I'll take a really long nap while pretending that I don't give a crap."

Bruce gave him a perturbed look despite the fact that he couldn't exactly deny the validity of it. It _was_ accurate for his usual thought process when things weren't going well and also rather accurate for what Tony did when he was pissed at you.

"Two: you can tell me what the hell happened in that lab that has you and Natasha so damned freaked out. Then instead of sitting there all dark and dreary we can figure out what the hell to do about whatever it is..."

Bruce bit his lip, scrunched up his nose and knitted his eyebrows before he finally released a heavy sigh and let out the truth of everything. "Those nanites were supposed to be a cure for me," he finally admitted, "they were intended to take out the Other Guy for good...which I assume was HYDRA and Red Room's back-up plan in case they couldn't control Natasha and uh—in retrospect, control me using Natasha."

He could see Tony's expression harden a little at the thought before his scientific side took over and he asked the right question, "How exactly were they supposed to do that?"

"Apparently they were programmed with a function to repair and then uh...reconstruct DNA," Bruce explained as he leaned back in the seat, "and they had the only sample of my original DNA inside them."

"The baseline for the repair function..." Tony muttered. He could see the other man's brain working in overdrive as he tried to decipher the effect _now_. Finally he just verbalized the question, seemingly deciding it would take too long to come up with the correct answer, "So...what the hell did it do to Natasha, turn her into your sister?"

Bruce groaned in an instant at the very thought and he could tell that despite the distasteful joke, Tony was legitimately worried about her now. "It uh..." he paused trying to get the right wording, but really he just didn't know the best way, "in some way I guess it did sort of serve the function it was supposed to..."

"But there was nothing to repair, nothing for it to match it to _for_ the repair," Tony mumbled out in confusion.

Finally Bruce just let it out because he _really_ needed his friend to help him get some perspective here. "She's pregnant..." he finally admitted, rubbing at his face.

"Preg—" Tony just sort of stopped mid-word and stared at him incredulously. "How the hell..." he mumbled yet another unfinished statement and Bruce watched as his friend just sort of sat back in his seat, absolutely dumbfounded and inexplicably stunned, which Bruce likely would have found laughable under any other circumstances.

It actually might have been the first time he had ever seen Tony at such an extreme loss for words. It was a good two minutes where Tony's mouth opened for a moment, then closed after he thought better of whatever comment—then proceeded to repeat the same thing at least twice more over another five minute span.

"Alright..." Tony finally got a word to leave his lips and even the man himself seemed a little impressed by it. It also got the ball rolling on further words, "I really want to understand this but—that's not even...neither of you can even do any of the damn parts that involve uh...um—"

"Reproduction? Yeah, thanks Tony but we sort of knew that already," Bruce told him with a roll of his eyes, "and why the hell do you even know that about Natasha?"

Tony blew out a weary breath before he answered that truthfully, "When she had the Robotasha thing going on last year and made me go through the Red Room files I found out a lot of things I really didn't want to know about—forced sterilization unfortunately being one of the things on a very long list of screwed up things that I sincerely wish I could forget about."

Bruce wasn't sure he had ever heard Tony verbalize the word 'thing' that many times before in his entire life let alone in a single sentence. He had nearly forgotten about Tony having the file but now he actually remembered him uncomfortably pawning off the search of it to Jarvis with the Natasha's approval. The billionaire had admitted even then that her file was something of nightmares although he'd quite uncharacteristically never spoken a word about anything he had read within them.

"Alright, I'm going to set aside the fact that the science here is—is seriously flawed because obviously it somehow managed to make a baby where one couldn't be made and—and in a way that can't possibly be done..." Tony stated with some reluctance. The repercussions of what those nanites did four months prior seemed to hit the billionaire like a sack of bricks because his friend looked a lot more unsettled now, "Shit...please tell me any proof of this outside of Natasha her damned self went up in flames when that lab blew up in bits and pieces."

Bruce swallowed dryly before he shook his head, "She said Stasia Balsovich was there..."

"And Natasha didn't kill her?" Tony questioned quickly.

"No..." he mumbled the reply out before he explained why, "Stasia saw the test result and she—she helped Natasha escape. She said she couldn't just kill her after she'd saved her life..."

Tony looked absolutely guffawed, "Is she out of her damn mind? That nutjob nearly killed her, she _did_ get you killed—"

"I know! Okay? I know..." and Bruce had to force himself to take quite a few deep breaths now as he closed his eyes. "Look, she wasn't just involved in what happened in Sri Lanka," he admitted, "she's the woman who trained Natasha and not _just_ that either—she's her uh..." And this was _not_ something he was comfortable saying, "She's her mother."

Tony was eerily quiet after that and it was a good five minutes before the man seemed to be able to speak yet again. "That psychopath trained her own daughter to be a murderer?" came the next question, "scratch that...I don't think that even ranks at the top of the list considering what the hell else she did to her."

"That's about the size of it..." Bruce replied.

"Jesus..." Tony mumbled, "again...why the hell didn't Natasha kill her?"

Bruce could only shrug before he gave the not-so-satisfactory answer, "Stasia saved her life. It's morals, Tony it's not false hope that Stasia might have magically sprung the first maternal bone in her body..."

His friend seemed to let it go even if he didn't agree with Natasha's decision and instead the next hour passed by in silence.

Bruce was left with nothing but his thoughts during that time and although he imagined Tony's mind was also working in overdrive, they most certainly weren't the same thoughts as Bruce's own.

And Tony finally asked the bigger question that proved Bruce wrong about them _not_ thinking about the very same thing, "That's what I interrupted between you and her, isn't it? The whole uh...baby thing?"

"I can't..." Bruce rubbed at his face all over again as he tried to figure it out, or at least figure out a way to explain what he felt without sounding like an ass, "I can't figure what the hell I'm supposed to do or think...or feel..."

Tony didn't look like he thought it was a terrible thing—so at least Bruce knew he wasn't completely a lost cause because he certainly would have felt like one if Tony had shown some sign of disgust at the comment. "There's not really a friggin 'For Dummies' guide book for 'my girlfriend got knocked up by my DNA filled nanites'. I think you're allowed to be a little confused here," came the reassurance.

"Natasha, she—" Bruce sighed again before he continued, "she doesn't think she even knows how she feels about it but she does. She's terrified because she _wants_ this...and so will a _lot_ of other people." He looked over and he could see Tony watching him so he continued, "I said I would stay no matter what and she uh...she reminded me just how bad it sucks to grow up with someone who doesn't want you—"

"Bruce..."

"She's right," Bruce told him with a sad little chuckle, "but she said that if it turned into a choice—that it wouldn't even be a choice, which I get, I really do but..."

"Right or wrong, understand it or don't, either way that doesn't make it hurt any less," Tony finished for him, "but I think you're forgetting something really important here, the part that started this whole damned thing."

It took a moment before Bruce actually comprehended what he meant and _then_ it hit him.

A cure.

His first and only real plausible chance of fixing just how messed up he was and it was gone before he had ever known it existed.

And it cut through him like a knife.

"Being upset doesn't make you a bad person, Bruce," Tony informed him after a good few minutes of silent.

It certainly didn't feel that way, not when he was brooding over a cure he hadn't even known existed half a day ago. "How am I not supposed to feel like an ass when I'm miserable about the only cure for me giving Natasha something she didn't think she could ever have?" he grumbled out, attempting to rub at his temples to relieve the pressure building up, "Why the hell did she even have to tell me about it?"

"You would have preferred her to lie to you again?" Tony questioned him.

"Honestly...yes."

"If I recall correctly that started one hell of an argument just the other day," came the next reminder, "and what about later when you inevitably found out the truth about the supposed cure and it _didn't_ come from her?"

Bruce frowned immediately and the internal struggle was almost overwhelming so he ignored the question completely. He could see Tony eyeing him from the opposite chair and he bit out the single-worded question after a good two minutes of tension-filled silence, "What?"

"Has it crossed your mind that maybe it's not that you don't want this with her but that you're just afraid you'll resent that kid for being what _maybe_ could have removed your greener side?" the question hit hard and Bruce swallowed dryly at just how valid that question really was. "You aren't your father, Bruce—the fact that I can see on your face right now that you're feeling guilty as all hell over this is the very thing that proves you never could be him."

"That _really_ doesn't make me feel better..." Bruce admitted with frustration.

Tony's next words didn't entirely help any of his other thoughts either, "Might also want to remember that you probably aren't the only one feeling guilty over your feelings about this situation."

He knew it was true. Natasha had looked absolutely guilt-ridden when she admitted the true purpose of those nanites. " _That_ doesn't make me feel better either..." he muttered.

"I know you a little too well," Tony pointed out next, "so I also know that means that you spent all of your time trying to comfort an alarmingly terrifying and hormonal former assassin so you never actually got to sort out your own feelings." Tony shrugged now before he decided to get off the 'feels' train and return to his usual humor, "Which is also another key indicator that you're not an evil dick-nipple, just in case you were wondering."

Admittedly it caught Bruce off guard enough that he actually huffed out a little laugh, "Did you just say dick-nipple?"

"I most certainly did not," Tony replied with a smirk, "now setting aside your obvious hearing impairment issues, the upside here is that you've got a good couple days to figure your shit out."

"Eighteen more hours with nothing to do but mull over my own thoughts," Bruce muttered out loud, "I've never been more excited than this in my entire life."

Apparently his best friend found that amusing because Tony snickered instantly.

* * *

 **I need to get the hell off the feels train too. Yeesh. Anywho, next chapter you guys will get to experience the new story line I've set up so get ready for another crazy roller coaster of a ride.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Alright. He's another chapter for you guys and as always I really want to thank you for staying along for the rather long ride :)**

 **Chapter 6** :

" _She had bewitched me; body and mind.  
Yet she could never touch my heart, my soul."_

Bruce wasn't sure if he was grateful for a few hours of time to think after his and Tony's less than comfortable conversation or if he wished the other man would actually start saying dumb and offensive things. At least the latter would actually make things feel a little more normal. There was also the added benefit that he had only managed any headway in his thoughts when Tony had been pulling them out like teeth.

He imagined just about anybody on the outside would think Tony was a terrible friend but Bruce knew it was the complete opposite; The pushing of boundaries, the ill-timed and usually inappropriate humor. To be honest if Tony didn't have those qualities then Bruce wasn't sure he would have liked the billionaire nearly as much as he did. The man was a breath of fresh air after living with people walking on eggshells in his presence—without those quirks he would be just like any other person.

Unfortunately it was all a lot more like a montage being jammed up all together that he couldn't pull apart to make sense of.

And he was going to straight up lose his mind.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this..." he finally mumbled out from his spot laying on the couch, "but I sort of really need you to just be an ass right now."

"Well that's just rude," his friend replied.

"You two aren't about to have another heart to heart, right? Because I really think you should discuss some plans for when we actually get there."

Bruce sat up in an instant at the sound of Clint's voice, "Barton?"

He glanced around and then watched as the archer poked his head out from one of the top bunks in the back, "Just saying. A plan is usually a good idea. I don't mind having no exit strategy, usually never have one of those—but at least I go in with a strategy."

Bruce wasn't even sure what to say now but apparently Tony didn't seem all too surprised as the man sat in his chair and sipped at his scotch.

"What the hell are you doing here, Barton?" Bruce dared to ask.

He watched the archer hop off the bunk and actually come out and take a seat now that he had outed himself.

Apparently Tony decided to answer for him while he made the trek, "I would think it's obvious. His best friend is carrying your illegitimate love child."

"Tony!" Bruce grumbled out in an instant.

The billionaire shrugged, "You told me to be an ass."

Clint snorted in an instant, "And he's sort of right."

"He is?"

"I am?"

Clint shrugged. "She spent ten years making sure I went home to my family," he reminded the both of them, "I need to at least return the favor by making sure hers comes back to her."

Bruce was silent after that one. Really it just hadn't left much _to_ say.

"Man, does your wife know you're here?" came Tony's instant question.

"You damn well better believe she does," Clint answered with a chuckle, "I wouldn't dare lie to her. I have to sleep next to her."

Tony snorted.

Bruce could only think to rub his face with his hands. "Natasha's going to kill me..." he mumbled out. It was the only thing he could really think of. Her retired best friend was now joining them for the unknown and Bruce was afraid if he didn't return the man in one piece to her then she may never forgive him.

"I don't see what you two clowns are so worried about," Tony mentioned offhandedly as he sipped at the drink again, "just imagine being me if I come back without the two of you—or rather the lack of me seeing as how my life will cease to exist."

Bruce watched as the archer waved that thought off with his next comment as though it were the most absurd thing he had ever heard, "You might not believe it Stark but you're her family too."

It was actually a relief to get some amusement out of the odd situation because Bruce chuckled when his own best friend choked on his scotch.

"That'll be the day," Tony scoffed before clearing his throat and sipping at his drink again.

"I don't think you realize just how much it meant when she was moving from the tower to the new place upstate and you told her that you were still friends even with Banner gone. She just assumed without him in the picture then you'd take yourself out of it too," Clint mentioned offhandedly.

Tony was frowning a little but he inclined his head a little to show he had realized the same thing. "Yeah well, I sort of thought the same thing about her," he finally stated. Then he smirked before he commented again, "At least until I double-checked that my man-card was still actively valid, then I straight up asked her whether we were or not." Bruce groaned a little when his friend waggled his eyebrows over at him, "I want to you to know, the hug I shared with your girlfriend at that time, and might I add that she one-arm hugged me back, was strictly platonic...and awkward."

He was sincerely regretting his request for Tony to be an ass in this very moment.

Clint snickered at the comment before he looked over towards Bruce himself and used an almost accusatory tone, "And you..."

Bruce couldn't quite help the visible grimace that showed on his face now. He had been waiting ages for Natasha's best friend to chew him out over any number of different things. Leaving that first time. Getting her caught up in a plethora of trouble even if it was a combination of both their pasts. Being the main foundation for _all_ of her worries now. Hell, perhaps the man would chew him out for just ever getting involved with his partner in the first place. _Something_.

Clint gave a sigh and a shake of his head, clearly able to read all of those thoughts on Bruce's face. "Doc, you really have no idea how much you've changed her, do you?" came the unexpected question.

The truth was that Bruce _did_ know. The difference between when Tony had dropped her off at his doorstep in India and now was immense. "Believe me...I really do," he finally admitted after a beat, "she changed me too."

"She thinks you would follow her to hell and back," Clint informed him next.

Bruce couldn't help but frown again. "And you don't think I would?" he asked and to be frank he found that to be a little offensive. He would take whatever blame Clint wanted to throw around for the abundance of trouble since they had started their relationship but _that_ wasn't something he would accept.

"I'm not saying that. There's no doubt in my mind you would because you already did it once and I know you'd do it again," the man informed him with a shake of his head, "what I'm saying is that before she met you she would have never believed that about anyone except for me—and that took a good number of years to prove." He felt his brow ruffle slightly in surprise at Clint's words, "And she doesn't think she deserves to have someone care about her that much—she doesn't think she deserves you. That's basically the cliff notes version of what she told Laura."

Bruce snapped his head up to stare at the man in confusion and he saw Tony glance over as well with an eyebrow quirked up.

"Why the hell would she think that?" Bruce dared himself to ask, "it's not as though I'm the world's greatest catch. And even if I did happen to be on the Captain America level of standards in some fractured insane alternate universe, she would always deserve more..."

Tony's voice cut in, "And Barton, now you can see the irony in what I have to put up with on my end."

"She doesn't deserve anything less than you," Clint assured him much to Bruce's surprise, "Banner, she spent her entire childhood being told she didn't matter and that she wouldn't belong anywhere because she had nothing to offer anyone."

Bruce knew all of _that_ too. He also didn't quite understand the point here. "I really don't get where you're going with this..." he admitted, something that seemed to make Tony roll his eyes.

"The point is, hearing shit like that for first sixteen years of your life that you actually _can_ remember isn't a habit you can easily break yourself out of when the thought is practically embedded into your mind," Clint pointed out. "You didn't just tell her you loved her but you _actually_ made her believe it," came the next reminder, "and if I'm honest here I didn't think anyone could ever make her believe that."

He didn't doubt that for a second. When he had first said it to her in India she had looked downright shocked and astounded by his admittance of love. "Can't say I'm surprised," he finally told Clint, "sort of had the same opinion about myself considering I've got a not so warm and fuzzy side that breaks out on occasion."

Tony snorted out a laugh and Bruce had to admit he was surprised the man was essentially staying out of the conversation.

Clint just chuckled, "Hey, the Big Guy is warm and fuzzy enough when it comes to Nat and that has to count for something. It's certainly good enough for me."

Bruce actually heard the Other Guy give a gruff little noise that probably equated with agreement. "At least she's one thing we have in common and can agree about," he admitted with a bit of reluctance.

"Bruce, buddy," Tony shook his head in disbelief, "you really need to start seeing the flaw in that logic there."

He couldn't help but ruffle his brow in confusion yet again.

Clint seemed to decide to finish that subject, "Doc, has it really never occurred to you that The Hulk was what actually brought the two of you closer?" The man sat back and shook his head yet again before he continued, "Think about it, say you had some other super power, or billionaire suit of armor and balls of vibranium steel that are powered by almost microscopic arc reactors like Stark over here. Would you have been in India that first time? Hell, would you have ever wound up with the bunch of us on the Island of Misfit Heroes?"

Again Tony snorted out a laugh before making a comment that made Clint chuckle too, "Barton, if I weren't already spoken for then that rather fantastic imagery might have given me a man-crush on you. And just a heads up, Pepper's going to kill you because suddenly I want to buy an island. I'll put in a beach resort."

"Sounds like the prime vacation spot. If you're buying then I'm down for it," Clint replied with a smirk.

Bruce had to admit he had never thought of that. He let his thoughts wander as Tony and Clint bantered about the billionaire's next investment. He would be damned but now that he mulled it over Natasha actually had sort of bonded with the Other Guy at first more than she had with Bruce himself. She had given more personal details to him than she had to Bruce early on. Bruce and Steve had tried to convince her that she needed to talk to somebody and she had chosen to speak to The Hulk on multiple occasions, talks between one monster and another, at least that's what he assumed she thought when she was doing it.

It was painfully frustrating to accept the truth. If there had never been a Hulk then there may have never been a relationship with Natasha at all.

"I just wanted you to know and after this we can stop doing the bro-moment thing and actually come up with at least a _semi_ plan for what we might find," Clint finally mentioned after a minute or two of silence, "plus Nat's sort of an acquired taste and I'm not sure anyone else would have been able to survive her as long as you have." The next comment was probably the most astonishing one of all, "No matter what you decide about this baby thing, no one else could ever be as good for her as you are."

The entire conversation had been even more unexpected then Clint's actual presence on this trip and Bruce wasn't entirely sure what else he could say except for one thing, "Thanks..."

Clint simply waved him off like all the man had said was of no real significance.

Tony took that as his cue, "And in the beginning I thought you were about to get the shovel talk."

Bruce couldn't deny he had thought the exact same thing.

"Dude," Clint rolled his eyes in response, "you can't just shovel talk the man who turns into The Hulk."

Bruce couldn't quite help but chuckle at the comment before he responded to it, "Wouldn't really blame you if you did."

"You're a teddy bear, Bruce," Tony stated with a smirk, "even Barton can see that you'd never intentionally hurt her."

"Agreed," Clint assured him, "plus, you know...Nat told me I wasn't allowed to give the shovel talk."

Bruce huffed out a sad little laugh and shook his head, "Of course she did..."

"Now that we've aired out that crap, let's actually be productive here," Clint told them, "I don't really feel like dying tomorrow because the two of you want to charge vibranium balls first into the unknown."

* * *

Laura had known even before the group left that Natasha wasn't going to be entirely thrilled by being left behind. She knew that Natasha was going to be even less ecstatic when Wanda walked back in the door about ten minutes after she should have been gone. She gave the young woman a questioning look as she met her at the door.

Apparently Wanda understood because she gave the smallest smile and a little shrug, "Bruce asked me to stay with her."

"She's not going to like that," Laura mentioned with a chuckle.

"Oh I'm sure of that," Wanda agreed, "but he was...very persuasive."

Laura could only assume that meant the scientist had told Wanda the truth.

"And here I was supposed to be the persuasive one, not Bruce," Natasha's voice interrupted them from the living room doorway, baby Nathaniel on her hip once more. "I told him I would stay until he came back," the redhead also mentioned, "but I suppose we aren't back to the point where he trusts me."

Laura could see the frown on the younger girl's face at Natasha's words. She stepped forward and held her hands out for her son and his Aunt released him back to her after a moment.

She gave a small sigh before she settled Natasha with pointed look, "You can't blame him for wanting you to be safe and you shouldn't be making Wanda feel bad for the fact that he asked her to stay and do just that, you know that's not fair."

Laura could see Natasha getting ready to respond when Lila came and tugged on her shirt, then proceeded to ask the one question that silenced the redhead completely, "Auntie Nat, what's a magical night-night baby?"

She could see the wide-eyed look of the redhead as she stared down at Lila and Laura popped her own question out in an instant, "Lila, where did you hear that?"

"When I got up to get water last night I heard Daddy tell Auntie Nat that nothing could scare Uncle Bruce away if magical night-night babies didn't," Lila answered with confusion, "but I don't know what that is." Her daughter tilted her head a little as she looked at Natasha's stomach, "Are you having a baby, Auntie Nat? Is that why he said you were gonna get fat?"

Laura could absolutely kill that man sometimes. Natasha looked like she had absolutely no idea what to say, she was just staring down at Lila with a slightly bewildered expression.

But Natasha did ask a question after a moment that gave Laura pause, "Lila...how much of that conversation did you hear?"

The little girl shrugged and looked a little baffled by the question, "That's all. I heard magical night-night babies when I went to get water and when I went back to my room I heard him say you were gonna get fat."

"Your father was obviously teasing her in the same mean way your brother does to you," Laura assured her daughter after seeing the redhead's look of relief. Then she gave Natasha an apologetic look on her husband's behalf. The other woman finally seemed to give a more accepting nod and Laura knew that meant she could at least tell Lila the truth, "But yes...Aunt Natasha is going to have a baby."

"Oh."

Laura wasn't sure she had ever actually seen her daughter look so—well, irritated seemed to be the appropriate word for her tone and expression in that moment. Apparently that was all Lila had to say and she watched her daughter stalk off upstairs. "Lila!" she yelled up after her. She almost went after her until she saw the absolutely heartbroken look on Natasha's face.

She realized that right then and there was the first time any of the kids actually looked at Natasha the way that Lila just had, even when Cooper had mentioned all their lying the previous day he still couldn't stick to his guns when he actually saw his Aunt. Yet it was always different between her daughter and Natasha especially. Lila loved the redhead, she looked up to her, and that bond just continued to grow with every visit for all seven years of her life.

Cooper was the one who broke the silence, "She thinks if you have a baby then you won't come over at all anymore cause you'll be too busy." She watched as Natasha looked almost guilty and then Cooper came over and gave her a hug, "Don't worry, I won't tell her it's cause you're scared of the bad people." She saw Natasha half-return the embrace before Cooper informed her of the _worst_ possible thing in that moment, "Besides, Dad's gonna make sure you're safe along with Bruce and Mr. Stark."

 _Oh God..._ It was all Laura could think in that moment. This was going to end _badly_.

"What did you just say?" came Natasha's immediate question.

Cooper looked up at her with more than a little confusion, "Dad went with Bruce and Mr. Stark."

Laura couldn't help but cringe at the absolutely pissed off look on Natasha's face in that moment.

"Woah..." Cooper mumbled as he glanced between them in surprise, "you guys lied to Aunt Nat?"

And she hadn't seen that void of non-expression on Natasha's face in ages, not until now, but despite that blank face her words proved that she was more than a little unhappy with the combination of everything that had just spiraled further out of control.

"Nat..." Laura said her name softly but the redhead just shook her head. Admittedly it _was_ the only time she and Clint had ever deceived Natasha since welcoming her into the family. She knew for a fact it wasn't being misled that upset the other woman, that was an expectancy Natasha lived with for nearly the entirety of her life—it was that it was done by the only two people Natasha trusted fully to never do so.

"I should go talk to Lila," Natasha decided after a beat.

Laura watched as Natasha gave Cooper a small smile and ruffled his hair before she went after her niece. She glanced over at Wanda and sighed as she shifted Nathaniel from one hip to the other, "I'm sure this isn't the sort of mess you were planning on getting stuck with, I'm sorry for that, Wanda."

Wanda merely shook her head, "You don't have to apologize."

"If I was Aunt Nat, I'd be mad too," Cooper informed them with a roll of his eyes.

Laura watched now as her son made his way back into the living room to watch TV and she blew out a frustrated breath before she smiled at Wanda, "I promise this house isn't usually so uh—unfriendly."

"I know," Wanda assured her, "I'm just impressed your daughter managed to sneak across the hall without those two noticing her."

Laura could help but laugh, "Clint says she's gotten very good at it. She has a knack for midnight snacks and drinks—she had to get light on her feet because he was always catching her and sending her back to bed."

Wanda looked quite amused by that.

"Of course that's the first time she's ever managed to bypass Nat's radar," Laura admitted, "but I guess in her defense she was exhausted and fairly distracted."

"I can tell," Wanda stated, reminding Laura of her rather unique gifts in her next words, "And so are you, why don't I take the baby so that you can take a few minutes to catch your breath?"

It was a remarkably tempting offer.

"Please, I'm sure you have enough to deal with on a normal day," Wanda pointed out with a bemused look, "and today is far from a normal day."

Laura chuckled before she allowed the young woman to take Nathaniel, "I appreciate it, I really do."

"I'm happy to," Wanda told her while she smiled at the giggling child, "besides, at least he actually seems happy to have me here."

Laura smirked, "Well you've got about an hour before he expects lunch—after that he gets a little testy."

* * *

Natasha gave a light knock on Lila's open bedroom door and watched as the little girl glanced up, then went back to brooding down at her plastic teacup. She frowned a little before she folded her arms, leaned against the door frame and made the offer that she didn't entirely want to make, "I can go away if you want me to."

Lila didn't look up but she could see that the poor thing was actually fighting to ignore her.

"That's alright..." Natasha told her softly before she removed herself from the door frame, "maybe we can talk later instead."

"Auntie Nat?" and she had only taken one step back from where she came from when Lila's voice gave her pause and made her turn back to the room. "I don't want you to go away...you can come in..." came the quiet admittance.

Natasha gave her a small smile before she went into the bedroom and sat down on the floor beside Lila. "Do you want to talk about why you're upset?" she dared to ask.

"Why do you need a baby?" Lila mumbled out into the teacup, "I thought we were your family..."

"I..." and Natasha truly wasn't sure how to respond to that and she sighed before she ignored the question and instead replied to Lila's statement, "Of course you are, Lila..."

"But you haven't come over a lot since you met Uncle Bruce," Lila reminded her while continuing to find interest in the empty teacup.

The poor kid had no idea. She was equating Natasha's lack of visits to her relationship with Bruce, although she supposed it was a partially accurate accusation it also wasn't the full story. A few months ago she had thought she lost him just when she realized the extent of her feelings for him. She supposed near death experiences tended to give you a little bit of separation anxiety despite never believing before that she wasn't capable of such a sappy and pathetic view point. Love was for children and sometimesBruce made her feel just a little bit childish.

Natasha knew that while Cooper understood the truth—that a lot of the time she hadn't been around recently had been due to 'bad people', Lila remained oblivious and Natasha knew it was because she was still a few years from coming to the same conclusions her brother had. Cooper was at an age now where he understood more of the truth than he typically let on, where he realized that being a 'good guy' or a 'hero' also meant that there were also 'bad guys' or 'villains' who would try to hurt them.

Of course the truth wasn't quite so black and white as the boy believed it was, just as it wasn't as black and white as Lila believed it was. She envied their different views because she had never been able to see things like that, never been allowed, and she had always been stuck in that foggy gray area between the two even to this day. For a while she thought she escaped it; she had found a sort of safe haven when she and Bruce began their relationship because he evoked sensations within her that she hadn't known she could feel, that had been stripped from her before Lila's age. But black and white had just been an illusion, proven time and time again whenever she grew complacent.

Apparently that comment had made her think for just a little too long because Lila was waiting for a response and the little girl proved it as she finally dared to look up at Natasha, the most solemn expression across her childish face. She felt terrible for being the sole reason that sadness ever came across the poor girl and her guilt over that was nearly as overwhelming as the guilt she felt for telling Bruce they might need to go their own ways.

"Auntie Nat...are you sad?"

She was and she knew it was saying something when a seven-year-old could see it. Still, it wasn't as though she could explain the many reasons why so she went for the partial truth at least, "I am...I never meant to upset you but I can tell that I did and that makes me sad."

Lila just gave a small nod before she went back to looking for something that most definitely wasn't inside the plastic teacup.

"All of you are always going to be my family, nothing's going to change that...but that's not the only thing upsetting you, is it?" Natasha asked her, angling her head to get a better look into Lila's reaction. The more somber look she held proved it and Natasha sighed before she tucked some of Lila's hair behind her ear and asked the question, "What else is wrong?"

"When mommy had Nathaniel she didn't have lots of time anymore," Lila admitted as she twisted the teacup around, "cause he's always pooping, or hungry, or crying." The rather frustrated look on the child's face only drove the nail deeper into Natasha's own guilt, especially considering what she said next, "But you come over sometimes and play with me."

"Lila..."

The little girl tossed the teacup down on the floor and folded her arms before grumbling out her next comment, "And now if you have a baby too then I'll _never_ get to see you, you'll just forget about us..."

Natasha's voice caught in her throat at the fact that Lila believed that. She figured it was best to give Lila the semi truth while sparing the not-so-appropriate details of the reasoning. "You know you used to be little just like Nathaniel and I'm sure Coop used to think all the same things about you," she told her, "but it's only for a little while, then he'll be bigger and he can do things by himself just like you do now."

Lila didn't entirely seem like she cared as she continued to keep her arms folded while giving annoyed looks to the flung teacup.

"You're lucky to have your mom and dad, kiddo, they're two of the greatest people I know," Natasha informed her next with a sigh and small shrug.

The next question was one that she was surprised Lila never asked before, neither of the kids ever had, "What about yours and daddy's mom and dad?"

It gave her pause, there was no doubt about that. "Well...your dad's not my brother, not like you and Cooper are brother and sister," she admitted the truth to her, "we're family because—because we chose to be."

Lila's face was crinkled in confusion now instead of annoyance, "I don't get it..."

Given her childhood, it was _not_ an easy thing to explain in a kid friendly way. "I grew up in Russia," she finally started with.

"But you don't talk funny..."

Natasha chuckled at the comment, "I learned how to hide it."

"So how did you get here?" Lila finally asked.

There was the question that wouldn't be fun to explain. "Here's the thing...I grew up in a place with a bunch of other little girls with no families," and it seemed like the most appropriate way to explain it, "but uh...the people who were supposed to take care of us—they weren't very good people and they just wanted to teach us to do bad things."

"Did you?"

She felt like she was ruining Lila's image of her but if it proved to the little girl that Natasha could never forget her, then she supposed that was worth it. "Yeah, I did," she told her honestly, "it was all I knew how to do for a long time, nobody ever taught me anything else." She could see Lila trying to come to terms with that so she left it for half a minute before continuing with a much more tasteful version of the truth, "But when I was older I realized what I was doing was...very wrong."

"Is that when you met daddy?" Lila asked her.

Natasha nodded to her, "Yeah, I was hiding from them when your dad found me." It was certainly a watered down version of Nikolao kidnapping her, drugging her, then leaving her in a hotel room where Clint had then come to kill her. "He saved me," she finally told Lila, "and he was the first person to do what a family is supposed to do—he taught me how to be a better person."

"But what happened to your mommy and daddy?"

 _Fire_. It was the first image to haphazardly go through her mind before it corrected itself—before it reminded her that her mother was a monster who _made_ monsters. The second was one she had never remembered before, though she had read about it in the remnants of her Red Room file. Holding a hand, hearing the gunshot, losing the safe feeling of holding that hand—and learning the smell of blood _far_ too young.

Lila's voice sounded a little worried now and it broke through the fragmented possible memory that had entranced her for a moment, "Auntie Nat...? Was it something bad? Cause you don't have to talk about it if it was bad."

These kids were way too smart. Instead she denied it and fortunately Lila seemed appeased with the answer, likely because it was the truth if only because nothing she remembered could ever truly be flagged as real when so many memories were falsified, altered and strategically placed, "I don't actually remember, I was a few years younger than you." She leaned over and kissed Lila on the forehead, "But that's why I could never forget you, not even if I get really busy for a while and can't come over. Your dad gave me the only family I've ever had—he gave me you, your brothers, your mom."

"Promise?" Lila questioned. The look on her face was so absolutely childlike, naive and innocent as she held out her pinky finger. It was something Natasha had never understood, though she had always found it amusing that the little girl seemed to believe that the 'pinky promise' was an unbreakable oath. It also seemed to be just that because Natasha realized that over the years and several dozen of these promises, she had never broken a single one.

She curled her pinky finger around Lila's, "Promise."

Maybe she needed to start doing those with Bruce considering how well they seemed to work. He would probably look at her as though she had lost her mind if she ever dared such a ridiculous gesture.

"Are you having a boy or girl?" Lila finally questioned, uncurling their fingers and pointing at Natasha's stomach.

"I—I have no idea," Natasha informed her before wrapping her arm around Lila and hugging her to her side, something of which Lila seemed quite happy about as she snuggled closer. Hell, she hadn't even gotten to a point where she thought about that—she was too busy trying to figure out how to deal with it all.

"Well I think you should have a girl," Lila informed her nonchalantly.

Natasha chuckled in an instant, "Why?"

"Cause I got two brothers," Lila pointed out as though it were the most obvious reason in the world, "and boys are annoying."

She couldn't quite believe she was having this conversation, "Well I don't exactly get to choose."

"Why not?" Lila asked while looking up at her a baffled expression, "if you get a boy just put it back and ask for a new one."

Natasha immediate gave a little laugh in response to the suggestion. "It doesn't really work that way," she admitted.

"But mommy was supposed to have a girl," Lila told her with a wrinkled brow, "then she decided to have a boy instead."

' _Oh hell..._ ' Natasha shook her head, "That's not true. See, somebody takes a picture of the baby before it's born and then they tell you whether it's a boy or girl."

Lila scrunched up her nose, "That person messed up."

Natasha couldn't help but laugh, "They definitely did."

"What are you gonna name it?"

Definitely not something she had thought about. It wasn't something she was ready to think about—none of it was. "I don't know," she told her honestly, "this is all new for me too, kiddo."

"I like Rose," Lila told her without hesitation.

"Well, you can't just settle for one—what if it's a boy?" Natasha questioned out of sheer amusement.

"Booger."

Natasha snorted out a laugh in an instant. Lila always made _everything_ better.

* * *

"It's like he's just...powered down or something," Bruce heard Clint comment. He watched the archer prod Vision in the forehead with no reaction from the victim of said prodding.

Bruce had to admit it was an accurate assessment but Tony merely rolled his eyes and responded with his own opinion, "The guy has an infinity stone melded into his forehead by an alien with a magic lightning spurting hammer. You can't just hit the power button and turn him off like a robot."

"Stark," Clint snickered, "he has legitimate vibranium balls of steel, not metaphorical ones like yours. He's an android and apparently he's got a power button."

"How would you know, Merida? You been lifting up his skirt?" came Tony's immediate retort. Then the billionaire guffawed, "Have you been lifting up mine?!"

Clint didn't miss a beat, "Dude, you wear a skirt?"

Bruce could have face palmed. Here he was searching for the missing Avengers in the middle of a forest on one of the supposedly uninhabited islands of Palau, and he was stuck with these two.

"You see this, Bruce? The man focuses on the skirt and not the fact I just turned him into the Disney Princess that's a cross between him and your girlfriend if they'd ever had a romantic little dalliance," Tony informed him with a smirk.

"This is inappropriate on so many levels," Clint stated in exasperated disbelief.

Bruce was never more relieved, "At least one of you realized that."

"Clearly neither of us have a gene that would make a kid's hair so unruly," Clint assured him.

"Oh come on," Bruce muttered when Tony laughed in appreciation. Not that he didn't understand. The two of them were nervous, he couldn't blame them considering _someone_ had managed to practically shut down Vision while the rest of the team was missing in action. "Would you two focus?" he requested as he exited the otherwise abandoned Quinjet of Steve and the others, shifting his gaze to the castle-like fortress on the uninhabited island. "Because that really doesn't look warm, friendly and welcoming..." he mentioned with a sigh.

"It's really very medieval of the bad guys for once," Tony quipped and Bruce could actually almost hear the nerves in his best friend's voice. "A big dark scary castle on an island in the middle of nowhere," Tony commented dryly, "actually almost seems cliché."

Bruce chuckled. "Mad scientist?" he offered up dryly.

"We could handle that," Tony stated with a shrug, "probably wouldn't even need your not so environmentally friendly self."

"That'd be nice," Bruce mumbled.

"Well I had scoped out everything around it and inside that I could," Clint informed them, "doesn't make sense, I can account for everyone being inside except Vision."

"How many not-so-friendlies?" Tony questioned.

"That's the part that doesn't make sense," Clint admitted, "I never saw any. I didn't see anybody except for them."

"Keep an eye out from a distance," Tony told him, "guess we'll just waltz on in through the front door. If anything I'd imagine that's the last thing anyone expects us to do."

Bruce sincerely had a _bad_ feeling about all of this as he followed the billionaire to the giant wooden door.

He could almost see the smirk behind Tony's mask as he motioned him to the door, "Bulletproof first?"

Bruce rolled his eyes before he pushed open the creaky door. The outside may have looked creepy and 'medieval' as Tony had so delicately put it, but the inside—the inside was spotless and beautiful. Wall candles lit the entirety of the castle interior, the wood paneled floors and stone walls were even pristine and decorated with curtains of a pale green.

"Somebody had a good interior decorator," Tony joked.

"I'm glad you think so."

The voice was unfamiliar but it sent chills up Bruce's spine nonetheless. A woman's voice; Sultry, seductive. He'd never heard anything like it before in his life, an impressive feat considering he'd always thought Natasha was the master of that until now. He warily glanced around the room to find the owner of it.

"Now, now, boys," came the voice again, "it's not nice to enter a woman's home without an invitation."

Bruce swore he felt fingertips brush against his arm leaving a feeling akin to stepping through a cobweb. It was alarming and he turned around, looking for whoever might have done it—yet nobody was there.

"Alright, now this is just getting creepy," Tony grumbled.

"Shush you insolent fool," the woman's voice called out.

"Boy, she's not very friendly," Tony whispered.

"Only when I don't like somebody," came the response.

And Bruce had to admit to feeling—well, feeling strange seemed to be the only explanation he could come up with for it. "Tony, something's not right," he informed his friend with more than a little unease.

"Now, now..." she whispered and Bruce would have sworn it was whispered right into his ear, "it doesn't get any more right than this."

"Cap?"

Bruce glanced over at Tony's words and followed his gaze to the Avengers' leader himself standing at the top of the staircase in front of them. He watched Tony step closer to the good Captain and Bruce voiced his concern at seeing the non-expression on Steve's face, "Tony...I don't think that's a good idea."

His friend just waved him off as he got to the bottom of the stairs and called up to the supersoldier, "Spangles? You with us here?"

"Of course I am," Steve answered.

Bruce was relieved to hear him say it, of course that relief was short lived when Steve dove from the top of the steps in one of the most daredevil tackles he had ever seen. Both Steve and Tony hit the floor and rolled behind Bruce's line of sight from the impact.

"Doc, behind you!" Clint's voice came over his com in immediate warning.

Bruce was already turning before the warning but now he did so much more quickly only to be met with the owner of the earlier voice. Long blonde hair, pale blue eyes, flawless pallor. She was mind-blowingly stunning, something he almost hated himself for thinking just seconds later.

"My, my..." she whispered sensually and that unnerved him on more than one level, "aren't you fascinating, I sense so much power inside of you...hiding inside such a small little man."

Her hand moved to caress his face and Bruce shied away last second when the Other Guy grumbled in disapproval within the back of his head, just barely avoiding her attempt thanks to the unusual warning from his other half.

"I must have you," she told him with an ease that was disarming and yet almost defiling in some ways all at the same time. "What holds you back?" her voice came out like a spell, whispered and drawn out—enchanting, "a woman?"

Natasha. His mind thought of her in an instant and he took a shaky breath as he stepped further away from whatever the woman before him was.

"Of course it's a woman, it's always a woman" she answered her own question with a quiet and luscious little laugh, "I bet she's beautiful." This time her hand made contact, resting against his face and he froze despite the anger and rage banging around his head like a pinball. "Is she as beautiful as I?" came her question.

Bruce shook his head against his will but his words were still his own at least, "More..."

"More?" she scoffed, "I do not think so."

The woman was so close to him now that her lips were a breadth away from his own. It was uncomfortable, the Other Guy was growling at him to move away, fighting to break out so much that Bruce felt like his head might explode. And yet his body betrayed his thoughts and his words. He couldn't move away—and The Hulk couldn't seem to get free.

"Banner?" Clint's voice almost sounded like it was coming from a mile away—like it didn't exist at all.

"Let's find out, shall we?" she questioned before full lips pressed against his own. "My name is Amora..." she whispered as her lips moved against his, "and now you are forever mine."

"Bruce!"

He was yanked back from her but he couldn't for the life of him understand why as silence came over his mind in the Other Guy's stead.

"Bruce, we gotta get the hell outta here," Tony told him, "Steve's friggin' nutso and that woman is batshit too."

"Bruce," came her voice, "I find him appalling. Remove him from my castle."

Bruce turned to him and he saw Tony's hands go up defensively—a sign of being harmless. "Bruce, buddy..." his friend's voice was nervous now, which he thought he should care about, and he _did_ care; yet he didn't all at the same time.

"Stark! Get the hell out of there! The whole damn team is surrounding you!" and there was Clint's incessant voice breaking through yet again.

Amora didn't want him here and suddenly neither did Bruce. He glanced around and watched as the other Avengers entered the room through different doorways. Scott. Sam. Rhodey. All of them along with Steve were closing in on Tony in his suit.

"Let's talk about this," Tony attempted. "A crazy lady kissed you and now you're going as chock full of crazy as Cap," he pointed out. The billionaire was wisely backing up towards the entrance they'd come in from as he continued speaking, "Natasha's gonna be majorly pissed off when she finds out you kissed another woman."

"It doesn't matter," Bruce informed him with a shrug, though he couldn't help but feel like it _should_ have mattered—like it _did_ matter and _always_ would.

"Shit..." the billionaire mumbled, "Nat's gonna kill me..."

"Tony! Get out!"

And Tony flew up and quickly bee-lined out the door just as Clint yelled for him to do. "Clench up again, Barton, I'm coming in hot for pick-up!"

"Forget it," Amora told him—and he did, "you'll stay here with me." Bruce watched her gaze shift to the rest of the Avengers, "Go, kill him."

They didn't hesitate to follow the order.

Then her arm curled over his shoulders much like a snake as she leaned in close to his ear, "Now let's play a game from one of your infamous Miguardian fairy tales...who's the fairest of them all?"

* * *

 **Ho'snap. Don't kill me?  
**

 **Tony's 'vibranium balls of steel' as mentioned by Clint are courtesy of Black' Victor Cachat. Sometimes we have the most ridiculous revelations, plot ideas and commentary with each other. ;) Be sure to check out their new story Avengers: The (Alien) Sun is Going Down!**


	8. Chapter 8

**It has been a LONG time. Big thanks to Alyssa for pulling me out of my slump by finding me on the LINE app that I totally forgot was even on my profile page. So glad you reached out Alyssa, this newest chapter is for you!**

 **Chapter 7** :

" _You pierce my soul.  
I am half agony, half hope."_

Clint's nerves were more than a little frayed. All things considered, he figured nobody would blame him for that even if he was calm on the outside. When you were stuck on an uninhabited island, well—uninhabited sans for some sort of temptress and your mind-controlled teammates—it was a little difficult to stay calm on the inside.

It wasn't to say that he wasn't glad to still have Tony on his side, but considering the fact that the billionaire was being chased by their friends; one of which was a supersoldier, another of which could turn into The Hulk? _That_ he wasn't glad about.

He notched one of his arrows, lying in wait as he watched Tony fly towards him.

Rhodey was right on his tail, just as Clint expected, and he took a deep and calming breath as he waited for them to get close enough. It wasn't that he couldn't hit his target from where he was, it was the mere fact that he knew he needed to do it at the last possible moment. He counted the seconds, adjusted his aim accordingly for their flight path, then as Tony got within twenty feet, he made the call.

"Go low, Stark," he told him over the comm.

The billionaire didn't hesitate to drop to a lower flight path and Clint let loose the arrow. It hit it's target, straight into the chest of Rhodey's armor. The electrical net released on impact, wrapping Rhodey's suit and fizzling it out, sending him sailing a few feet to the ground. Tony grabbed hold of him a moment later, flying them towards the Avenger's abandoned quinjet.

"I take it we're not leaving them a ride," Clint mentioned as they landed in the back.

"Hell no," Tony muttered, "and we need to reconvene, come up with a strategy here, because the two of us versus all of them is just asking to get an ass whooping."

Clint couldn't exactly disagree but it also didn't leave him with a good feeling over having to abandon their friends. "What about Banner?" he dared to ask him.

"FRIDAY, autopilot my jet back to the tower," Tony ordered, making his way to the cockpit. "Barton, shoot any of those cult convert teammates of ours that try to get on board," came the man's next order, "not one of them gets on this jet, not even the weirdo that turns pea-sized."

Clint wasn't too thrilled by it, but he couldn't deny it was necessary. He followed the order nonetheless, shooting an explosive arrow into a tree. It fell, causing Sam Wilson to veer off path just enough that the second arrow he shot, into a different tree, exploded and caused the man to fall to the ground as well.

It all left a sour feeling inside, having to attack his own friends, having to leave them behind. He hadn't been any happier when he had to leave Natasha behind during the Ultron debacle, but it _had_ been necessary—and an order—an order that Steve Rogers had given. It was also one he imagined Steve would have given right now just as Tony had.

Which made it just the tiniest bit easier to shoot an exploding arrow just a few feet in front of the speed-running supersoldier.

Except Steve seemed to expect it and the man made an almost astounding leap over top of the blast. "Stark," he called out, "the good Captain seems to have other ideas on that!"

"Show him who's boss, Frodo."

Clint rolled his eyes before he muttered out, "Frodo? Really? That has nothing to do with a bow and arrow..." He shook his head as he watched Steve run after the slowly ascending jet, trying to come up with a decent plan. _Then_ he remembered what jet he was on, plus a few conversations he'd had with Wanda about Scott Lang's toys. "Well...guess there's some irony in mentioning hobbits right now," he mentioned to himself out loud.

He turned, digging through the former thief's bag. It would have been nice if the man labeled his toys, unfortunately that wasn't the case and it was a crapshoot on whether or not he was going to either give them a clear escape, or if it was going to quite literally turn into a much bigger problem.

"Why would hobbits be ironic?" came Tony's confused response.

"How pissed do you think Cap will be if I shrink him?" he called back, playing eeny-meeny-miney-mo with the two different circular discs.

"Shree—" and then he swore Tony was laughing despite the circumstances, "you've got shrink arrows now? Shrinkrows?"

Clint snickered as he finally settled on one and ran back to the open hangar. "Not exactly!" he called back. Steve was eerily close, dangerously so even, and he grimaced before he threw the little disc out, shooting it with an arrow just half a second later.

He half wanted to close his eyes, not sure if whatever he just did was going to backfire or not. Fortunately the good Captain didn't turn into a giant star-spangled giant, but rather he disappeared out of sight instead.

Then he heard Tony whistle in appreciation, "Holy shit, you really do have Shrinkrows."

"And I'm sure it'll be a big hit when I go home and say, ' _Honey, I Shrunk the Avengers_ '," Clint deadpanned as he hit the button to raise the ramp of the hangar bay, "right after I tell Natasha that I lost the only person she's ever loved."

He could see Tony's expression now as the man removed his face mask and threw it aside, wearily rubbing at his face. "I'm the one who left him there..." he mumbled out, "I'll tell her."

"This isn't on you, Stark," Clint reminded the man, "you couldn't have known some crazy chick with brainwashing powers would be there, and you couldn't have known she would get Bruce under her spell."

"But she did," Tony responded with obvious frustration as he threw his face mask across the jet.

It clanged against the wall and Clint couldn't help but empathize with the poor guy. He had beaten himself up over the exact same situation on more than one occasion.

"And now we have to figure out how the hell we get them all back," Tony tacked on as he set the autopilot and dropped heavily into one of the seats. "When Loki screwed up your head, how did Natasha snap you out of it?" came the unexpected question.

Clint grimaced a little at the reminder of that not-so-fond moment before he blew out a weary breath and answered it, "Cognitive re-calibration."

Tony looked at him with both eyebrows raised up before he asked another question, "That some sort of SHIELD brain machine?"

"Yeah," Clint mumbled with a roll of his eyes, "it's called Natasha's fist."

The billionaire let out something that sounded like a mix between a cough and a laugh before he shook his head, "Of course it is." Tony sighed before he leaned his head against the back of the seat, "I suppose getting her to punch Bruce in the face is probably out."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Clint mumbled, "she might be game if you tell her he kissed that woman."

He saw Tony cringe in an instant.

Clint rubbed at his face before he groaned, "We can't tell her anything about that, Stark...seriously."

"Magic baby or not, she needs to know," Tony told him and Clint seriously hated the fact that the usually least mature member of the team was suddenly being the mature one. "You two both have experience with the brainwashed thing," the other man reminded him, "I have to trust that she's not going to hold it against him."

"She wouldn't, not normally," Clint assured him, "but you're talking about telling a hormonal pregnant woman that the man she loves just kissed some sort of temptress and fell under her spell..." He gave the billionaire a wary look, "Take it from a guy with three kids, all rationality sort of goes out the window for nine months."

Tony looked a little frustrated by the thought.

Clint finally gave in, "But you're right..."

"I'm well aware I'm right, Barton," Tony muttered, "and whether we tell her or not, I think she'll find out. Bruce is too honest for his own good...so it's better she knows ahead of time."

"Call Wanda," Clint told him, "now _."_

He saw Tony eyeing him in uncertainty, "Don't you think this is a conversation better had in person?"

Clint gave him a frustrated look before he dignified that response, "It's not about who Banner is kissing, it's about the fact that we have a team that knows where my family lives, and they're under the spell of a crazy woman."

The billionaire's face dropped in an instant before he called out to his AI, "FRIDAY, video conference Little Red at the Barton house."

"Right away, Boss."

He could practically feel his heart beating rapidly as he waited for a response. He was half afraid that Natasha would be the one to answer the video conference on his laptop. He did _not_ want to explain this over a video call to his best friend.

Fortunately they were saved from that when Laura appeared on screen. She adorned her usual smile, one that normally put him so at ease, but she seemed to be able to see something was wrong the moment she looked at the both of them.

"Clint?" her voice held that worried tone that he hated, "what happened?" Then her eyes glanced over the entire quinjet before a wrinkle formed in her brow, "And where's Doctor Banner?"

He swallowed dryly before he said the only thing he could, "I need you to get Wanda...and I need you get out everyone's emergency bags."

The look on her face was one of absolute dread. She was on her feet in seconds, walking away, and Clint heard her talking in the background before Wanda came in front of the screen, an obvious look of worry on her face, "What's going on?"

"You need to take Laura, Nat and the kids, and you need to leave," Clint told her in an instant, "and you need to do it now."

"Go to the tower," Tony butted in, "I already sent Pepper a message, she'll have a jet standing by. It'll take all of you to my new place, and nobody knows where it is yet, so that'll be one less thing to worry about."

Clint eyed him. He shouldn't have been surprised by the generosity of the offer, yet he was, and he was also more than a little grateful.

"I'll do it," Wanda assured them in an instant. "What happened?" she dared to ask next.

"The entire team is brainwashed by a she-devil," Tony grumbled out, "and now Bruce, too. We're not taking any chances here."

Wanda went a little wide-eyed in response.

"We'll explain it all when we meet up with you," Clint assured her, "but for now—"

"Mom!" he heard Lila yell out in the bathroom, and his daughter sounded more than a little distressed. A second later he saw her appear in the doorway behind Wanda, "Wanda! Uncle Bruce and some weird lady are in the barn with Auntie Nat!"

"What?" Wanda questioned, turning towards the little girl in an instant.

"Wanda!" Clint yelled out, feeling his heart plummet into his stomach.

The brunette didn't even hesitate, she stood and ran to Lila, "Go get your mom!" Then the young woman was running out of sight in an instant.

Clint sucked in a sharp breath, gripping the small amount of hair on his head as he stared at the laptop in absolute terror. This was _never_ supposed to have happened. He had kept them hidden from the world so this _wouldn't_ happen. How the hell could they have even gotten there already?

"It's going to be fine..." he heard Tony tell him as the other man placed a hand on his shoulder, "Wanda is more equipped for this than any of the rest of us, and she won't let anything happen to them." Tony gave his shoulder a more firm grip when he didn't respond, "Right now let's just be grateful Bruce decided that Red needed a babysitter."

* * *

By the end of the first day of Bruce, Clint and Tony being gone, Natasha had to admit to feeling a little twitchy. She knew it was being stuck on the sidelines that had her so out of sorts, but even the fact that she was on the sidelines for a _very_ good reason wasn't enough to assuage the feeling.

After about 30 hours in on the next afternoon, Laura and Wanda were driving her crazy by giving her worried looks. It was the reason that by that time, Natasha was out in the barn for some peace and quiet.

And also something to do.

For the moment, screwing the wooden legs onto the new dining room table that Clint was crafting was at least something to keep her busy, even if it was something completely ridiculous. Now she understood why he was always doing it. They were one and the same. They needed _something_ to do, even if it was something as trivial as making a table.

Natasha didn't keep track, but she knew she had probably been in the barn long enough that either one of the Barton clan, or Wanda, would probably come around to check on her soon enough. It was her instincts alone that told her she wasn't alone in that moment, and her mind was telling her in an instant that it wasn't any of the people it _should_ be. It was a familiar presence, yet unfamiliar all at the same time, making her feel an uneasy pit in her stomach.

She turned her head as she stood up, and on the opposite end of the barn was Bruce, just beside him, a woman.

"Well, you _are_ rather pretty, aren't you?"

It didn't make sense. She glanced between the two, between Bruce and the woman, and a certain sense of wariness fluttered through her like shock waves; rippling like a pebble skipping across a calm lake.

Something was _wrong_ , wrong with Bruce, she could see it in his eyes as he stared across the barn at her; yet it was almost like he was staring into an absolute void at the same time. Like Natasha herself wasn't even there.

"Bruce?" she offered up cautiously.

"Oh no," the woman chided with a chuckle, "he doesn't see you."

Natasha watched as the woman circled around him like a vulture, trailing her index finger across his chest, over his arm, across his back, until she came back around to his side again.

"I merely needed to see you by using him," the blonde informed her, just before making a rather bold statement, "so that I could see my competition of course, and you are rather aesthetically pleasing, aren't you? I can almost see the appeal, it's just too bad you're not my type."

Natasha watched them carefully before she noticed the flicker in their bodies, noticed parts of the opposite end of the barn appear in those flickers.

They weren't _really_ standing there.

Suddenly she found herself wondering if she was hallucinating again, just like the nanites had done to her months ago. Maybe they were affecting her again. Or perhaps it was even a remarkably odd dream. That wouldn't surprise her either given how real they had all seemed recently. Though this was almost surreal.

But what the hell was that woman even talking about?

"Whoa, Uncle Bruce is back!"

Natasha flitted her gaze to Lila in the doorway of the barn in an instant. She moved in front of her, stopping the little girl from coming fully in. "Lila, get out," she told her quickly, "go get Wanda!"

"But—"

" _Now!_ " she ordered the child more forcefully.

Lila looked at her wide-eyed, stunned at hearing such a tone from Natasha for the first time. Apparently she recognized it meant there was something wrong, because Lila turned and Natasha was sure she had never heard Lila's footsteps move quite so quickly before.

"Who the hell are you?" Natasha questioned the woman, attempting _not_ to focus on the fact Bruce was standing right there, acting as though she didn't exist.

The woman moved with such speed that Natasha couldn't react, or rather, she wasn't sure what she could have done to avoid what happened next. The woman was just a foot away now, and it was almost as though some invisible force had Natasha herself by the throat as her feet lifted off the ground.

"Tsk, tsk..." the woman hummed out, "you should be nicer to your betters."

What the hell _was_ this person? An enhanced?

"I'm the woman who has turned your world's 'Mightiest' into my play toys," the woman replied with a rueful little smile, "and now I'm getting rid of one of their distractions, I need clear minds in my soldiers, I can't have them stuck on trivial little matters such as love—unless it's for me, that is."

The struggle to breathe was all too real now as that same invisible force constricted around her throat. "B—Bruce!" she managed to call out, " _wake up_!"

For a second his gaze flickered to her, like he actually heard her call out this time, but the waves of red energy tore through the barn before Natasha could attempt to fully get his attention.

She crashed back down to the barn floor almost painfully as both the woman and Bruce disappeared, then Wanda was at her side, kneeling down with a hand on her shoulder.

"Natasha?" Wanda's worried voice brought Natasha's gaze to the younger woman, "are you okay?"

Natasha moved her hand to her neck and took a few uneasy, painful and shaky breaths, before she nodded her head. This shouldn't have happened, it couldn't. Clint would be beside himself when he found out an enemy attacked at his _home,_ and even worse; attacked because of Natasha herself _._

"Get Laura and the kids," she told Wanda quickly.

"They—"

"We need to leave."

Wanda held her hand out to help her get up as she spoke, "They are already packing...Clint called, he said we had to get out."

Natasha had to force herself to take a moment, to breathe— _in and out_. She took the younger woman's hand and got to her feet, despite the fact she felt like she needed time, needed it to think, and to grasp the entire situation. Unfortunately it didn't feel like she had time for any of that, not considering the circumstances. Instead she asked the only thing she could, even though she already knew the answer to it in her heart, "Bruce isn't with them, is he?"

"I'm sorry..." Wanda answered softly.

She pushed it down, she pushed it down further than she ever had before, and then she nodded her head. "Okay," she managed to get the single word out without sounding like the 'mewling quim' Loki had called her years ago. She figured that was at least something to be happy about in that moment, "Let's go..."

"Natasha..." Wanda murmured her name out, the worry etched into her tone like a virus.

Natasha ignored it as she went to head out of the barn. She only stopped when she saw green and yellow smoke emitting from the ground from behind them. She had a feeling she knew what that meant—that this time the woman was _actually_ there, and not just some sort of phantasm. She turned her head quickly, coming face to face with the blonde woman. There was no flickering to her image, not this time, almost proving her previous thought correct.

The only thing that came of pushing Wanda out of harm's way when the woman attacked, was that the blast of energy that woman sent out instead sent Natasha herself flying through the barn doors. It might have been a hell of a lot worse too, except those waves of red energy warped their way around her body, easing Natasha to the ground.

Unfortunately the save also left Wanda more than a little vulnerable, and in seconds she saw the younger woman careen through part of the barn's wall. Natasha watched her use her powers once more to settle herself midair, lowering herself slowly to the ground, before she took that carefully erected barrier of chaotic energy and sent it flying towards the blonde woman.

It was effective but Natasha had a feeling that was only because the woman wasn't expecting a counterattack of that magnitude. The blonde was pushed back several feet, though she still remained standing, and despite the slightly irritated look on her expression, Natasha thought she also saw something akin to amusement.

"My, my, my..." the woman taunted with a chuckle, as she placed her full attention on Wanda instead, "aren't you a rambunctious little thing?"

"You have no idea," Wanda assured her, a crimson ball of energy forming in each hand.

Natasha glanced between the two, but even she knew better than to get into the middle of a battle between two enhanced like Wanda and this woman. And despite the fact that she had trained Wanda herself to have more control, the younger woman _was_ still learning how to be more aware of her surroundings.

That was the reason why Natasha knew that Wanda never saw what was coming, the reason why she tried to warn her. "Wanda, behind you!" she growled out, running towards her. The tree roots were practically sprouting from the ground behind Wanda.

It wasn't enough time, not to get to her, and even the vocal warning wasn't quite fast enough to keep up with how quickly those roots and vines wrapped around the young woman.

Natasha just barely rolled in time to avoid the ones that tried to get a hold of her as well—except when she rolled to her feet, she came face to face with the woman who seemed so intent to be rid of the 'distraction', as she had called Natasha earlier. And she didn't wait for the woman to try anything this time, instead she went for the instant sucker-punch.

Except the blonde only faltered back half a step before her hand shot out, and Natasha felt the woman's fingertips grasp her neck like a vice grip. " _That_ was my face," the woman seethed out at her.

The sheer strength in that woman's grasp forced Natasha down to her knees, and she was already seeing little golden spots floating across her hazy vision. It lasted a good minute and a half, to the point where Natasha thought she just might lose the fight to try and keep on breathing, when the woman's grip _finally_ loosened slightly.

Then her grip was removed all together and for a moment Natasha couldn't understand why—not until she saw the blonde shift back just slightly. It was in time to avoid the arrow that came at her, but only barely due to the element of surprise. The cut across the woman's face seemed to enrage her, and Natasha thought for a brief second that Clint and Tony had returned—until logic reminded her that they couldn't possibly get here _that_ quickly.

And apparently the woman was going for a two-for-one special after that, because before Natasha could look to confirm that the arrow came from the boy she thought it had, she felt that hand grasp her throat—again—and then before she could think to react, she was yanked off her feet. Within seconds the grip was gone from her throat, and the ground was moving beneath her. The woman had _tossed_ her like a rag doll.

Natasha had the good mind to push her palms into the ground at the right moment, painfully able to push off the ground with them just before impact. It was defensive, and probably a miracle she hadn't broken either hand or wrist in the maneuver, but she certainly wasn't about to chance what that hard of a landing might affect—though it didn't exactly mean she had a smooth landing either.

It could have been—hell, it should have been. She maneuvered it perfectly to do so. It was the fact that she managed to land on her feet and saw that glowing green ball of energy heading towards Cooper, the boy who had probably just saved her life, and he was aiming his father's old bow and arrow in absolute shock and awe that he had actually been successful.

She was going to test out Bruce and Tony's new addition to her batons, or at least she was now that she caught sight of the fact that Cooper had them sticking out of his pockets. It seemed he had been trying to do more than just protect her—he had wanted to give her something to fight back with. She certainly loved the kid for it, but at the same time she almost wanted to kill him herself for being so reckless.

Natasha had the good mind to get behind Cooper, knowing that even if her plan worked, they were certainly still going to take a hit—and if they were thrown back she couldn't chance landing on him. This time she had to chance a bad landing. She managed the only option she could as she pulled the batons out of his pockets from behind, wrapped her arms around him in an almost hug, and connected the two ends of the baton together in front of him.

She was never in her life more grateful for some random invention or upgrade to her weapons as she was in that very moment. The two batons connected and instantly a sleek black shield, nearly the size of Steve's own shield, formed in front of Cooper. It did it's job—that and a little more. It deflected the green ball of energy back at it's maker, but it also hit with enough force that Natasha, with Cooper still wrapped protectively between herself and the shield, were sent flying back with enough force that they broke through the front door.

Protecting Cooper was more important than herself, and she kept him tight against her chest even as her back hit the hardwood of the floor and they slid across it a short ways.

The pain shot from her head all the way down to her toes, and for a moment she saw nothing but black, and heard nothing but silence.

"Cooper!"

Laura's voice snapped through the silence.

Cooper's horrified voice brought her back to complete awareness, "Aunt Nat..?"

She sucked in a sharp breath through all the throbbing in her body before she managed to pull both herself and Cooper into a sitting position. She turned her head and saw Laura almost frantic in the doorway to the kitchen, Lila half hiding behind her with a wide-eyed look of terror.

Natasha turned her head back to the destroyed doorway, watching as the woman sauntered her way towards them with a look of anger, the bottom of her dress singed from where the energy ball had deflected back at her.

"Cooper, go to your mom," Natasha told him quietly.

"But—"

"Go, now," she ordered sharply, standing up and pulling him to his feet as well. It was only a moment before she was pushing him in Laura's direction.

"Natasha!"

Laura's voice was like the sound of an alarm, and Natasha shifted immediately again to face the doorway, pulling Cooper directly behind her as the woman came to be just a foot away.

It seemed she had garnered the woman's attention with her actions because this time no attack came. Instead icy blue eyes took in the situation; looking from Natasha, to Cooper just behind her, then to Laura, Lila and Nathaniel at the back of the house.

"You didn't come here for them, you came here for me," Natasha reminded her quickly, "so whatever it is you want from me, you can have it—"

"Aunt Nat!" Cooper interrupted, clearly not in agreement with her making that particular deal.

"Cooper, be quiet," Natasha warned him softly, not daring to take her eyes off the woman before her.

After a good minute of dreaded silence, a sense of relief only came when the woman finally spoke, but her comment was one of the most unexpected ones, "I would never _intentionally_ aim to harm a child, I'm not a monster."

Natasha let out an uneasy breath, not that she was entirely sure she should trust those words, but she didn't exactly have much of a choice either—not against whatever this woman was, because it most definitely was something more than just Enhanced. Not that it mattered if she believed her or not. Even if the woman was telling the truth, it also wouldn't stop her from hurting Laura—or Wanda who was still trapped by whatever spell or magic that woman used.

"Go to your mother, child," the woman told Cooper after a second.

"You can't hurt her," Cooper told the woman in an instant, poking his head out from Natasha's side, "you said you wouldn't hurt a kid..."

"Cooper!" Natasha hissed out the warning in an instant, though it seemed far too late as the blonde quirked an eyebrow up at the comment. "Go right now," she ordered him more forcefully.

Laura's voice giving the order finally got him to listen, "Cooper, _now_!"

The boy looked wary over the decision before he finally relented, turning and running towards Laura and his siblings.

Natasha watched the woman carefully now, the way her eyes trailed down to Natasha's own stomach, before the blonde tilted her head and met her gaze.

"So you carry life within you," the woman said in a softer tone, "quite the resilient little leech, isn't it?"

That made her chest tighten inexplicably.

"Relax," the woman offered up with ease, not that Natasha found her tone at all calming, "As I said, I am not a monster." The smile on her lips was more disturbing than pleasant, and yet the offer she made next somehow pushed through all of her thoughts like a battering ram, "I'm giving you a chance, and all that you have to do is forget, forget him." It was the strangest sensation, and the woman hummed the word out again, "Just...forget."

After an oddly calming few seconds of emptiness, her mind fought the trance being suggested, and Natasha felt panic shortly after. "No," she murmured, shaking her head that was still trapped, even as she got lost staring into an endless sea of blue that was the woman's eyes. "No..." she whispered it now, even as that ocean started to swirl like a whirlpool, "I won't forget..."

"Shh..." the voice was eerily comforting yet hissed like a snake, that combined with those mystical eyes was almost mesmerizing—hypnotic, "You'll be happy, and you want to be happy. I can offer you peace. You want these things, everyone does."

Natasha felt like she was losing the battle when she began to feel almost lightweight and free. "I want these things..." she murmured without control of her voice. It was the sniffle behind her that garnered her attention, that anchored her back into reality. The fog lifted in her head enough, at least enough that her words came out stronger than she thought she could manage them, "No, I won't be subject to your mind control and your lies..." She shifted her face against the woman's hands and the irked expression on her face was worth it, "You can't just force him out of my head."

The woman scoffed, "All of that determination inside of you, and over a man, though I must admit I am impressed at your willpower."

Natasha watched the wave of red energy envelop the woman, raise her into the air, then it dragged her backwards through the busted door at a high rate of speed.

She turned to look at Laura and the kids, "Laura, get them in the truck and go!"

"Nat—"

"As long as I'm here, she won't follow you," Natasha reminded her.

Laura nodded her head, "Clint told Wanda to take us to Stark Tower..."

"Then go there," Natasha told her, "I'll distract her."

"Please be careful..." Laura told her with a frown. She watched her friend usher the kids towards the back door, "Cooper, Lila...let's go, hurry."

"No!" Lila looked absolutely horrified at the idea of leaving without her, even as her brother tried to pull her along towards the back door.

Natasha turned to go out the front door where Wanda was barely holding back the blonde woman. Or rather she was about to before she heard tiny footsteps coming towards her. She turned back in that direction, crouching down as Lila came close enough, and she wrapped her arms around the little girl in a hug.

"Lila..." Natasha said her name softly, "you have to go..."

"She'll hurt you," Lila told her with a sniffle.

Natasha sighed as she pulled away from Lila a little, holding her arms gently, "What matters is that she doesn't hurt you, or your mom, or your brothers."

"It matters if she hurts you!" Lila cried out.

"Lila, come on!" Cooper told his sister, coming over to get her at his mother's behest.

Natasha pressed her lips to Lila's forehead before she stood up, leaned over, and did the same to Cooper. "I love you both," she told them with a small smile, "but I need you safe so I can focus on fighting."

"You never said that before..." Lila murmured.

"We love you too, Aunt Nat," Cooper told her with a frown, keeping a tight hold on his sister.

Natasha heard Wanda cry out and turned quickly, just in time to see their attacker send the young woman flying a few feet back. She grabbed the shield, pulling the batons apart and retracting them.

"No!"

She had to ignore Lyla's cries. Instead Natasha ran up behind the blonde, who was currently standing over Wanda, with a ball of crackling green energy enveloping her hand. Fortunately Natasha's brain was functioning along with her instincts, because she clapped the batons back together and formed the shield, holding it up just in time for the woman to turn that energy ball on Natasha herself.

This time she was a lot better prepared, she leaned into it with her feet planted, and while her feet slid back across the yard—the ball of energy deflected and sent it's maker flying backwards from her own attack. She nearly fell backwards again, but Wanda used her own powers again to keep Natasha standing.

She moved back to Wanda, holding her hand out and helping the young woman to her feet, "You okay?"

"I am," Wanda assured her, genuine gratitude in her expression and tone, "thanks to you." The girl looked like she had a plan, "Does that thing have the same kick as the batons?"

"Supposedly," Natasha told her wryly, "what's your plan?"

Wanda glanced at the shield, then back up at Natasha, "Do you trust me?"

Of course Natasha _did_ trust Wanda, but the question gave her pause for other reasons, because that usually meant the person in question had a dangerous idea. "I have a feeling I'm going to regret saying yes," she told the young woman.

"I've practiced it with Steve for an aerial building assault," Wanda told her, watching as the blonde woman struggled to her feet, "you run at her, I use my powers to give you leverage...between you, that shield and my powers—maybe we can knock her out."

Definitely not the type of attack up Natasha's alley, although it was certainly a bold one that Steve would favor. Unfortunately, it was probably the best plan they could come up with on the fly. "Beggars can't be choosers," she told Wanda, giving her a reassuring smile, "let's do it before she gets her senses back."

Natasha had to ignore the fact that she could _see_ Laura leading the kids to the truck on the side of the house. She took a deep breath, planted her feet, then _ran_ with the shield out. Now she knew how it felt to be Steve, except instead of super strength, she had Wanda giving her added power.

No amount of preparation could have made Natasha comfortable with being lifted off the ground, still she had to force herself to accept it, because she was already in the air. She leaned forward into the shield as Wanda aimed her downward towards the woman, who was _just_ back on her feet, and hit the buttons on the batons. The shield crackled to life with blue electricity, though not completely powered up without her suit, it would have to be enough.

Apparently the blonde couldn't quite figure out _where_ Natasha was. She saw the woman looking around, saw her look at Wanda, then the woman looked up at her with wide eyes—though it was far too late. Natasha came down fast and hard, crushing the shield into the woman's face and chest.

The woman flew back and crumbled to the ground like a sack of bricks.

Natasha was just glad Wanda managed to land her on her feet without breaking her legs or killing her.

"Wow...that worked?" she heard Wanda mumble as the young woman came up beside her.

"You want to go ask her and find out?" Natasha asked her dryly, quirking an eyebrow up at Wanda.

The brunette looked amused, though exhausted as well, and inclined her head, "Not particularly."

 _Everything_ hurt, and Natasha took a few shaky breaths when a few jabs of pain were sharper than others.

"Natasha?" Wanda's tone was one of worry, not that Natasha could blame her.

"It's fine," she assured the younger woman, shaking her head, "I'm fine."

She took a few steps towards where the blonde woman lay when she suddenly disappeared in a cloud of yellow and green smoke.

"Did she...give up?" Wanda questioned with understandable uncertainty.

Natasha would have loved to think that was the case, though she sincerely doubted it.

There was a shrill cry from across the yard, and Natasha turned her head in that direction so fast she almost got whiplash. Her feet took her in that direction in an instant and she could hear Wanda's not far behind her. They rounded the corner of the house where the truck was and Natasha stopped short when she saw the woman with her arm around Laura's neck.

She felt her heart racing a mile a minute as she looked back at Wanda, "Stay here."

"But—"

"Wanda...we can't win this fight," she told her, "it's like she's not even human, and she's definitely more than just enhanced."

Wanda looked torn as she spoke, "I promised Bruce."

"And I promised Clint, a _long_ time ago," Natasha told her, "I can't let them get hurt because of me."

The younger woman looked unhappy with it but she finally relented and gave the slightest nod of her head.

"Whatever happens, just get them out of here."

"I will..." Wanda agreed quietly.

And as Natasha cautiously made her way to the intruder who had Laura hostage, the woman chuckled, "I must admit you are quite absolutely _full_ of fire in a fight. It's marvelous. You and I, we could turn all of Midgard into our castle—think about that."

Midgard. At least that finally gave Natasha a better idea of what she was dealing with— _not_ human—not even _in_ human.

"Or you can forget about all of this, as I said earlier. These are my offers to you," she stated with a chuckle, "you won't get another one."

The woman certainly didn't give many viable ones either. Allow herself to be mentally manipulated into bliss—empty happiness; or help her take over the planet? "Those are supposed to be choices?" she questioned, her voice dripping with a bit of sarcasm. Finally she relented, even against every fiber of her being telling her no, "I'll do whatever it is that you want. If you want me to forget Bruce, fine. If you want me to help you take over the world, alright...just let them go."

The blonde just smiled again, that eerie and haunting little smile, before Natasha felt the very air she was breathing become just a little thinner. The woman released Laura and then her hand came to rest on Natasha's stomach, and it was like she couldn't move—couldn't even try—as though she were frozen in place or had simply _forgotten_ how. "W-what are you doing to me?" she managed to mumble out, a lightheaded feeling coming over her as the room began to spin.

"I'm using some of your life and giving that power to the life growing within you," the woman replied, "and I want you to remember that feeling while I give you a few days to make an actual choice."

Natasha felt almost nauseous before the woman removed her hand from her stomach.

If it weren't for the crackle of thunder, Natasha would have never noticed the sky opening up. But the woman removed her hand from Natasha's stomach in an instant when it happened and both of them turned their gaze to the large splay of blinding light that shot down close by.

And Natasha had never been more glad to see Thor appear in her life.

"It seems we'll have to finish this some other time," Amora mentioned with a chuckle.

The woman vanished within that same yellow and green smoke as she had appeared in earlier. She couldn't concentrate on any of that though, she could only concentrate on getting her hands on anything nearby to steady herself.

"Aunt Nat!"

When she got her hands on the truck it was no help. Instead Natasha just found herself leaning against it as she lowered herself to the ground, though Thor was quickly next to her, trying to help her sit.

"Natasha?" Laura's voice rang out and she vaguely heard the footsteps from her friend as she rushed over.

The pain in her stomach was sharp, jabbing, and getting worse.

"Lady Natasha," Thor's loud voice had a worried edge to it.

'Lady Natasha'. At least some things never changed. Regardless she shook her head for a moment, cutting off whatever he might be about to say. "Get us to the tower, Thor."

"As you wish," Thor told her without hesitation.

* * *

Of course Pepper had sent the message to Tony and Clint immediately when Thor arrived with 'the women and children', as Thor had so gallantly announced upon arrival.

Clint's family all seemed fairly alright, though clearly a little distraught from the havoc.

Wanda however was bleeding from a cut on her forehead, and had several bruises marring her skin. Despite that, Pepper could see the young woman looking worriedly at Natasha and that drew Pepper's attention to the redhead.

It wasn't the first time Pepper had seen Natasha bruised and battered. This time was different however. Natasha wasn't just bleeding or bruised. She was half-leaning on Thor and she had a ghastly pallor, one arm uncomfortably wrapped around her midsection.

"FRIDAY, is Dr. Cho still in the labs?" Pepper questioned.

"She is, she said she had something important to discuss with Doctor Banner and Miss Romanoff regarding the nanites. I assume she's figured out that Miss Romanoff is with child."

Pepper was silent for a moment as that comment sunk in. "She's—" she paused again and glanced at Natasha, but the redhead neither confirmed nor denied the statement from the AI. "Nevermind...just tell Helen we need her in the medical wing immediately," Pepper managed to order the AI without completely getting thrown off kilter by the new information.

"Right away, Miss Potts."

Pepper smiled over at Laura and the kids, "There's some couches and a TV over there, how about you guys go ahead and grab seats. I'll have someone bring some snacks up."

The little girl, Lila, looked about ready to cry—she also looked like she had done quite a bit of that already. "But Auntie Nat—"

"Is going to be just fine," Pepper assured her, poking the little girl's nose and giving her a soft smile. "We're going to go get her looked at real quick, then we're going to all go somewhere safer," she told Lila and the rest of the Barton family.

Clint's wife looked equal parts relieved, worried and guilty as she looked at Natasha. Finally the woman gathered her senses and urged the kids with her free hand to head towards the couches, all while soothing a baby in the other. "Come on, we don't need to get in the way," she told the kids.

"We won't be long," Pepper assured her as she motioned Thor to the elevator.

Pepper had never actually seen Natasha around the Barton kids before. It was like seeing the woman in a new light when Pepper saw her ruffle Lila's hair and give the little girl a soft smile before Thor led her to the elevators.

She paused when she saw Wanda sit down on a chair rather than follow them to the elevator. "Wanda, I think you should get checked out."

"Thor is with Natasha, so I am going to stay here with Clint's family," Wanda answered.

The poor thing looked downright uncomfortable and in pain, and Pepper frowned slightly before she tried to suggest otherwise, "I have security—"

"We thought the farm was safe and we were wrong," Wanda pointed out with a shake of her head, "and no offense, but that woman is not human. Your security would never stand a chance...so I will be right here—waiting."

"She is right," Thor informed her, "Amora is Asgardian. She is an enchantress who can control the mind of any man her lips touch."

Pepper saw Wanda cringe almost instantly. It took a second for her to understand why, for Pepper to comprehend what Thor had just said. She shifted her gaze to Natasha once again but the redhead was either too uncomfortable to notice what Thor said—which Pepper sincerely doubted—or she was choosing to ignore it. Ignorance seemed like the most likely scenario.

"Alright..." Pepper agreed with a sigh, "we'll be back up shortly."

Wanda simply nodded her head.

* * *

 **Again, I'm very sorry for how long it's been—but I'm also extremely happy to have been slapped out of reality :)**


End file.
